Off Course
by CC-645
Summary: The Galaxy is knocked off course by some cosmic shift, and the Jedi Order take a more proactive stance than we have come to recognize. Schemes are concocted, decisions are reached, and more logical outcomes result from the events of SW:TCW:S5. My long-requested fixfic, starring exile, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, half-a-Maul, and Palpatine. Cameos by Angry Anakin, Alderaan and big explosions!
1. Prologue

**After years' worth of procrastination and deliberation, I bring to you my long-promised, long-awaited and oft-requested fixfic to** _The Clone Wars: Season Five: Episodes 17 through 20. _**Well, almost. **

**After having long debates with various colleagues - both internet and actual - I have decided that it is not, in fact, the TCW finale that needs fixing, nor the Jedi Order, but, instead, the portrayal of both. I will elaborate further after this chapter, for now, enjoy the read!**

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><p><strong>Off Course<strong>

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><p><strong>Prologue: <strong>

"_The Jedi Order was never stupid. Inert – yes, complacent – to a degree, but never stupid."_  
><em> —<em>Adi Gallia, Current Affairs interview circa 33 GrS.

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><p>Grim silence fell onto the meeting chamber of the High Council, coincidentally concurrent with the fading of the Coruscant sky into darkness. Well, near darkness, as a planet of a trillion inhabitants found almost as many ways to illuminate itself at night.<p>

"This new intelligence is troubling." Master Windu voiced what was on everyone's mind in the room. "We knew that the victory on Geonosis came with strings attached, but their extent is truly staggering."

"Victory?" Yoda snorted incredulously, "'Victory' you say? No Master Windu, not victory. The shroud of the Dark Side has fallen. Begun the Clone War, has." Shifting in his seat, the old Grand Master softened his tone into reminiscence. "For thirty-five millennia has this Order fought in wars, defending the Republic against threats within and without. But always have we chosen our battlegrounds, always held our own council, relied on no-one but ourselves. Now forced we are into a world with which we have little experience. Leading armies, each Jedi alone, on battlegrounds we do not know, ordered hither and yond by the Senate. No support have we to offer, no healers on the field, no battle Meditation to strengthen our units. Planned this war has been." He thumped his gimer stick. "Planned, the demise of the Order has been. Masterfully orchestrated, has been the Sith Master's plan."

"While I agree," began Obi-Wan, recently returned from Kamino with the entire package of the GAR's training manuals and list of contingency orders, "Can we not turn the Sith plot against them? To enact Order 66, they would need to either be in the Chancellor's Office proper, or be part of his entourage. If we pre-emptively enacted Order 65, we could eliminate that threat."

"Sadly," Master Oppo Rancississ began, "That is no-longer possible. As of yesterday, Bail Organa and I are the only ones not loyal to Palpatine on the Security Council, and considering the Senate's election of Palpatine for an unconstitutional third term, we are not likely to get any help from them either."

"What is left to us, then?" Adi pondered. "We cannot sit this war out, as we have learned during the Pius Dea conflicts and the Mandalorian Wars, that will only lead to more harm than good; we cannot know for certain who the Sith Lord is, despite it being safe to assume that it is the Chancellor, and we cannot remove the Chancellor due to his machinations. What other options do we have, besides fighting it out and hoping the Sith Lord makes a mistake?"

"We plan." Obi-Wan stated decisively. "We plan, then we act." Before a curious mutter could rise, Obi-Wan produced a tactical holo of the Galaxy and put it through on the chamber's projector. "It has become evident that the Sith are controlling this war from both sides. Dooku has a certain charisma about him, and in the event that the Separatists win this war, it is he, not his master, who will have the will of the people behind him. Sidious will not stand for that, so he must be aiming to 'win' the war with the Republic, using his own popularity to cement his place of leadership. Further, the CIS is a small state, and it will be easier to control the Republic's annihilation of them as opposed to letting the CIS overtake the galaxy, from a purely strategic standpoint."

"How means…?" Ki Adi Mundi prompted. He could almost see where Obi-Wan was going, but in matters of such import, 'almost' did not cut it.

"It means that we have a guaranteed, solid warning before anything happens to the Order. Firstly, to justify the destruction of the Order, Sidious will need to lower our image with the masses, and perhaps engage in some political machinations on this front. Further, when he is ready to act, he will step up the Republic's advance, letting us take down most of the enemy assets. According to our intelligence, the Separatists have many fortress worlds in the Outer Rim, such planets will be difficult to assault, likely leading into long sieges. It would be an ideal time to strike, with the Jedi off-guard from the near-victory and perhaps left isolated to coordinate their forces. Through careful observation, we can establish when this last phase is reached, and with luck – and the Force – perhaps have a timetable."

The room was silent for a time, the councillors pondering the suggestion and probing the depths of the Force. At length Master Windu spoke, "That is an interesting proposal, and certainly deserving of more thought than we can muster at midnight. We still have time to plan, and make certain that the Order does not fall along with the Republic."

In concurrence, Master Yoda stood from his chair, "A recess, I declare, until morning tomorrow. The Force with you may be. Night good!"

Following him, the Masters stood from their chairs and departed the chamber, leaving the Jedi's future a fair shade brighter than it once was.

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><p><strong>And that sets everything in motion.<strong>

**As questions were raised with _Mistype_, let me briefly elaborate: In the proper EU, the GAR (Grand Army of the Republic, read: clones) had a manual of 150 contingency orders, issuable by various authorities to deal with emergency situations. Orders ranged from mundain "Take out the loundry, trooper!" to "bombarding key allied planets", to Order 66, "Kill the Jedi" and Order 65 "The Chancellor went bat-sith crazy, kill him!". The only authorities capable of issuing 65 were the Security Council and the Senate. **

**Next up: brief opinion piece. I'll post a detailed article on my blog after it stops looking like an explosion at an HTML plant, but the TL;DR is: I like what Karen Traviss did with Mando culture, I hate her guts when it comes to the way she - and many others - dealt with the Jedi Order. No, they were not a cabal of secretive, intergalactic wizards. No, they did not have a slave army. No, they are not totally useless and insane.**

**Sadly, when an author lacks in the intelligence department, and he wants to make a smart villain, the good guys turn out to be utter nincompoops. To facilitate the contrast of intelligence, the author dumbs down his "heros" instead of making them smart, and the villain even smarter. Timothy Zahn did a good job of making an "even smarter" villain in Thrawn, while still keeping Han/Leia/Luke/Mara/Karrde viable. BioWare did an incredible job of making the Jedi Order - make tha the Entire Galaxy with SWTOR - a hive of nincompoops.**

**Pet peeves aside, I hope you enjoyed the read thus far. This story is going to be way shorter than YJBL (Which I'll discontinue, probably) as I'm going with a quality quantity approach (YJBL, despite having 80k+ words, was a little shaky due to the demands on my time). **

**I freely admit that I have no posting schedule for this story, and think it'll be honest to say so, rather than going all political and offering promises I cannot deliver.**

**Good day folks, and may the fiction be with you!  
><strong>

Clean word count: 857 | Published: 2/11/14, 2235 GMT


	2. Chapter One

**Off Course**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: <strong>

"_In war misinformation flies just as much as ordnance, and produces nearly as much casualties; the media is, by some fluke of reality, altogether blind to the dangers of the former in reporting the depravations of the latter."_  
>—Master Windu, lecture at the University of Coruscant, circa 34 GrS.<p>

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><p>In the midst of a galaxy-wide conflict, a single system going dark might not have seemed as a subject over which to wake the Jedi Council. HoloNet relays were often hit by both sides, frequently leaving entire sectors without communication with the outside galaxy. When it came to Manda'yaim though, few risks were taken.<p>

Known in Basic as Mandalore, the planet was the cultural – and often adopted – home of the Grand Army of the Republic. While there were clones who – by Kaminoan engineering or personal choice – forsook their roots, the vast majority of the GAR had taken the opportunity presented to them by their training sergeants and Jedi Generals to experience more of their culture, much to the consternation of the brass and the frustration of the press, who were climbing over themselves to run stories on a slave army.

It was thus that alerted by Naval Intelligence, who operated outside the scope of the Republic Intelligence Office proper, the masters of the Council assembled to hear the report.

"My boys got to Manda'yaim about ten hours after it went dark," Kal Skirata began, "We're still pulling the TIV's sensor data to verify what, exactly, was in the system, but Niner says it's 'mostly uglies, freighters and some honcho's big yacht.'"

"Pirates?" Plo Koon hypothesized, "A Separatist invasion would have had at least one Lucrehulk to offload the droids and fighters."

Kal Skirata shook his head. "I doubt simple pirates could have managed this…" he muttered, inserting a datacard into a nearby reader. The projector whirred to life, displaying a scruffy-looking contingent of riffraff storming the Sundari Palace. At their head charged an Iradonian, a red saberstaff scything through the defending guardsmen.

To an observer not familiar with many members of the Order, it would have been rather startling and perversely satisfying to see Obi-Wan Kenobi take a step back from the situation table and mutter some imprecations as to the fairness of the universe, Maul's indecency to not "stay well dead" and matters of parentage.

Having vented, Obi-Wan requested the recording to be rewound, asserting that: "If cutting him in half did not kill him outright, the thermal detonator I tossed after him should have finished Maul off."

On closer examination, that statement was proven true. While the Iradonian did have similar tattoos and, from the shading, red skin – though through the monochrome blue of a hologram it was tough to say precisely – his features and horns differed vastly from the original Maul; the pretender was also a good fifty centimetres taller and built more solidly, looking remarkably well for someone who was supposedly dead for nigh on twelve years.

The questions were then raised courtesy of Master Windu, who was the imposter, what was his game, and what was to be done?

The first could only be ascertained by sending a team to investigate, which tied into the third. Should a Jedi Shadow Unit be dispatched to _eliminate_ the threat? Should a wholesale invasion be scheduled? Should it be a mixed taskforce on a commando raid? The third, peculiarly, depended on the second; if the marauder was intent on subjugation a larger response would be required than if he was merely raiding the planet and moving on.

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><p>The Coruscant morning saw many yawning masters assembled once again in the situation room. Holographic strings of data whizzed above the gathered heads as Master Windu wrapped up his presentation. "In short, it is safe to say that Mandalore has been occupied by a coalition of Black Sun, Death Watch and various other insignificant underworld riffraff. Whoever is in charge – though we know it's not our Iradonian – did a thorough job of securing the planet. A full-scale invasion will be costly to our troops, while a covert operation to liberate the planet will require a great deal of time, planning and resources. All of which we are running out of, if the other information Naval Intelligence provided pans out."<p>

"I say Centax will pan out." Obi-Wan announced grimly. "The separatists can outlast us in a war of attrition at our current respective strengths, and reinforcements from Kamino will only come in eight years…."

"Vich in itself is a farce," Even Piell snorted. "The var vould be over by now if the Chancellor authorized the Sieges three months ago."

"True," Obi-Wan agreed, "But it also means that the Sith is not yet in a position to move against the Jedi Order. He still needs a war to keep us occupied while he does—erm, whatever Sith do."

Yoda was the only one to not laugh at the joke. He stood stooped, gazing at a wall monitor, a troubled air about him. "Master Obi-Wan," he interrupted gruffly. "Prepared, is everything for Project Esk?"

The mood sobered abruptly. "It is." Obi-Wan responded in concern. "What is it that you sense?"

"Trouble." was the curt answer. "When liberated Mandalore is, activate Project Esk we must. Grave danger I foresee in the coming future. Stepping up his game, the Sith Lord is."

A shrill wail of warning rushed through the Force, staggering many more deeply attuned to its current. Then, a peal of thunder sounded, and the floor quivered. Glowpanels went out, replaced by emergency chemical lighting, claxons began to blare and a recorded voice rolled over the Jedi Temple's internal speakers, "Security alert! Security alert! Explosion in hanger 2249-West, emergency crews notified. All younglings and non-combatants, proceed to shelters. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill"

A new voice came over the speakers. "This is Cin Drallig to all Jedi; the Temple Guard has command. All available teams, report to perimeter defence…"

As further orders were issued, Master Windu turned to Yoda and spoke, "Looks like your timetable got moved up. We're taking the first excuse we get."

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><p><strong>And here starts the story proper. I'm currenty trying out a new style of writing, if it gets clunky, please excuse in advance, and feel free to notify me of such.<strong>

**On the subject of notifying, thank you all so much for noticing this story, leaving your reviews and doing all the other things that made me grin delightedly after opening my inbox. This was a very warm welcome back guys!**

**Now, pertenant notes: Centax, short for Centax II is a moon of Coruscant, converted into a military outpost during the Clone Wars. Per the Republic Commando books, Palpatine was developing Spaarti clones on the planet in the third year of the war to supplement the GAR. Spaarti clones usaully mature in a year, (unless you use Ysalamiri to prevent Force-driven madness, in which case you can grow them in less than a month), which is much more effecient than the Kaminoan method. Also, Spaarti clones are easier to "program", especially with things like Order 66.**

**A TIV is a Traffic Interdiction Vessel; imagine a Star Wars SWAT van. **

**Navies usually have their own intelligence service, and it is usally apart from the Country's/Organization's primary intelligence department, and the two are often at odds, which will play into the plot further down the line.**

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><p><strong>Coming up next: Palpatine, evilness, and Ahsoka. <strong>

**For now though, thank you for reading, and may the Fiction be With you!**

Clean word count: 1,021 | Published: 4/11/14 0415 GMT


	3. Chapter Two

**Off Course**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

"_My lad, what did I tell you about letting humour get in the way of a plot? We Sith thrive on being evil, choking the odd minion with the Force, and laughing maniacally. We do __**not**__ indulge in petty mischief…even if it is rather morbid…."_  
>—Spirit of Darth Plageius in conference with Darth Sidious, time unknown.<p>

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><p>"Is something wrong, my master?" The voice, haughty by nature, today held an extra dose of disdain. Of course, Count Dooku would not have permitted it – or his condescending smirk – had they met in person, but the war had blessedly put an end to such meetings, and even Darth Sidious' legendary might in the Force did not extend over the HoloNet, at least, not on Coruscant, surrounded by Jedi.<p>

"Oh nevermind, Darth Tyranus, all is proceeding as I have foreseen…."

That remark was not altogether believable as half of Darth Sidious' body was bent over double and disappeared from the holocomm's pickup range, presumably beneath his elaborate desk. The eyebrow raised in incredulity went unseen by the Sith Master as grunts and clunks were heard.

"Well?" he demanded, when the pause in conversation exceeded his taxed patience, "What news of Mandalore?"

"Allied Forces have taken the system." Dooku reported, ill at ease, "They are fortifying for a ground assault, but as I informed Vizsla, they cannot hold should the Jedi achieve orbital superiority and slag the place."

'Oh don't be ridiculous, Tyranus!" Sidious cried, followed by a bump and muffled curse in Huttese, a little side-effect of hanging out with Anakin every fortnight. "The Jedi don't commit to orbital bombardment. Can you see the furore on the HoloNet should the Open Circle Fleet slag a 'neutral planet'? Besides, I'm certain it's written somewhere in their code, 'No chaos, harmony' perhaps?"

Count Dooku sighed. Sometimes he just didn't know why he became a Sith. Yes, he missed Qui-Gon dearly, and the Senate was full of blithering nincompoops – not least the Gungan delegation – but at times, his master surpassed even them.

"My Lord," he began, falling back on the age-worn politician's trick of covering an urge to throttle with excessive formalities, "The Jedi Order had no compunctions about bombarding Korriban from orbit during the Hypersace War." Before his master could protest, he quickly added, "Or bombarding Dromund Kaas after their poster-boy offed the Emperor. Or—"

"Alright, alright, I get the picture!" Darth Sidious cried irritably. He straightened, or at least tried to, and instead thunked the back of his head against the underside of his desk - really hard.

When he regained coherence he added, "Fear not my friend, I have the Jedi occupied with a matter close to home, it will be quite some time before they can muster an adequate force to deal with the situation, be it orbital bombardment or the Jedi Marching Band driving away Death Watch with their out-of-tune clamour."

A snap-hiss sounded, and a glowing blade tip speared through the desk. It wiggled for a bit, there were more grunts, exclamations of pain, creaking of joints, and finally it began to move. It sliced more-or-less along on the desk's edge, cutting it free from one of its supports. A moment later, the support was knocked away and in a tumble of black robes Supreme Chancellor Palpatine rolled out of his chair and out, away from the collapsing desk.

Nigh on seventy years of Jedi disciple where not enough to stifle Count Dooku's laughter, instead, they transformed it from a ridiculous bellow into a more dignified snigger.

Palpatine was not amused, having spent a good half hour stuck beneath his desk, his elderly back was killing him, and the extrication was far from pleasant. "Oh stop it! It's hardly funnier than when you nearly sat on Master Yoda."

Dooku was about to beg to differ, but Palpatine righted himself and quickly changed the subject, "Anyway, I've had enough of this blabber. How is Darth Mall?"

Dooku cringed. It was another of his master's idiosyncrasies, but the elderly should be tolerated ,if not indulged, "He performed well during the initial invasion, but Vizsla reports he is getting himself into scrapes with Black Sun on a regular basis."

"Good, good! He is following his predecessor's footsteps!" neglecting to right his desk, Palpatine grinned at Darth Tyranus' holoprojection, skewed 36° and flickering randomly. "Mall will serve us well if Kenobi shows on Mandalore."

"Why do you insist on calling him that, anyway?" Dooku tried to inquire. It could not hurt, could it?

"Well, I had to call him something, and if I called him 'Maul 2.0' it would just sound like a droid and diminish the fear-factor." Palpatine paused to think, then lit upon an idea. "I guess I could have called him Maullinator'!"

_Oh yes it could._ For a moment, Dooku lamented the presence of any solid objects within a five meter radius of the holoprojector in his study; he could _really_ apply one to his forehead right about now. Hurriedly, he asked a question of his one, hoping to derail his master before he could go on a renaming spree. 'Union of Separatist Associates' was bad enough. "Master," he asked, "What are you occupying the Jedi with this time?"

"Oh this and that..." Palpatine proclaimed nonchalantly, dusting his robes for effect. "A bombing here, some propaganda there. A protest, some stonewalling, some military interference, a framing and some subverted agents…nothing big." He paused, and then added, "With the Jedi distracted by betrayal in their ranks, they will not respond to Mandalore in time, and the clone army shall lose faith in their leaders. Hahaha—"

Dooku was surprised, "You managed to turn some Jedi to the Dark Side? But the dental plan isn't even worth it these days!"

"Oh no, my apprentice," Palpatine assured, "Just the Dork Side."

Sensing impending doom, Dooku hurriedly said his farewells, citing that the Separatist Council needed some guidance. Though, as his finger hovered over the disconnect key, he could not resist one last jibe. "You know you could have simply wheeled your chair back, right?"

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><p>Anakin Skywalker was not a happy camper.<p>

At all.

The torpedo compartment of the ARC-170 was not a comfortable lodge. Though, at least the trip from Cato Neimoidia to Coruscant was short.

Of course, the ARC-170 had been designed with three living crew in mind, but it was not designed to be part of the Open Circle Fleet, and thus two of the cabins were not capable of supporting life. Which resulted in his current predicament. Well, rather, which _lead_ to his current predicament, his Padawan assisting in it, having unceremoniously dumped him out of the torpedo bay upon landing.

"Not funny, Snips!" he called, but after two years together, Ahsoka was immune to his various growls, scowls, and barks.

"Payback for messing with my sabers!" she called to him, "I do **not** look good with **pink** blades!"

"If you're finished," a tolerantly fond voice came over the PA system, "You're expected at the Council Chambers…yesterday."

"Yes Master Windu…" the two chorused, despite there being no way for their response to be heard, and helping her master of the permacrete hangar floor, Ahsoka strode onwards into a larger world of intrigue, conspiracy and Jedi Business.

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><p><strong>This chapter turned out whackier than I had expected, and definitely more humourous than I intend for the rest of this fic, yet I did my best to tell the story that I needed to tell, while delighting in Palpatine's misfortunes. Depending on feedback, I might revisit this on a more somber tone.<strong>

**Next chapter shall see us engaged in some Crime Sith Investigations - erm, pardon me - Crime Scene Investigations, and a little more foreshadowing, world-building and other literary devices. **_Chapter Four_** will be when action starts (read: lightsabers get turned on), starring my battle against a chase scene.**

**No elaborative notes being needed, I shall wish you all a good day, and that the Fiction be with you!**

Clean word count: 1,210 | Published: 8/11/14 1022 GMT


	4. Chapter Three

**Off Course**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

"_History remarks that between the Sith and the Jedi, the latter are remarkably incapable of guile. From what I've seen though, I'm more inclined to think that they are just better at hiding it."_  
>—Mon Mothma on Jedi operations, circa 34 GrS.<p>

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><p>The hangar was a mess.<p>

This time, it had nothing to do with the presence of Anakin Skywalker. In fact, he was sedately pacing along the back wall of the hangar in question, _supervising._

It was a long established Jedi tradition that senior Padawans – a Padawan became senior by dragging their master's unconscious body to the Temple Healers at least once – were to take a two-year internship with the Coruscant Security Force to learn the finer points of law enforcement. The internship was part-time, owing to various demands in both organizations, and with the breakout of the war attendance had declined significantly.

For Ahsoka, the _Jedi Officer Program _was a welcome pastime for when she was planet-bound, either on mandatory leave, or when Anakin was haring off on some adventure too wild to take her along. It was thus that dressed in her official uniform – the same cut as the CSF regulation, but done in creams and browns rather than navy and black – she strolled around the wreckage of the LAAT/is and observed the situation, scribbling notes on her datapad and consulting with her trainer.

Detective senior Sergeant Kellros Heshcom was an average man, brown hair greying around the temples and stern face creased with both laugh-lines and wrinkles. Having transferred from CorSec at age 25, he had spent the past forty years policing the galactic capital, and the past thirty as an instructor with the JOP. Enjoying his work, he had passed up many promotions to stay with the program, but as age was catching up to him, he had long since decided that Ahsoka Tano would be his last student, before excepting his promotion to Lieutenant in charge of the Core Enforcement Agency Liaison Office.

Ahsoka was a good student and a credit to her teaching lineage, displaying the same diligence and attention to detail as did the then-young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.

It was this meticulousness he was now observing.

Having taken the obligatory notes and interviewed the ID team in charge of the scene before her arrival, Ahsoka was now examining the general distribution of debris. It was immediately evident to an experienced investigator that something was _not right._ It took Kellros himself some time to establish what that _something_ was, and he was proud to see Ahsoka catch on.

"One explosion could not have done all this." She said thoughtfully, "At least, not the kind of explosion we're looking at."

"Indeed," he affirmed, "LAATs are designed to withstand the occasional anti-armour missile, the destruction we're seeing here would require a yield close to 400 kilograms..."

"…in which case," Ahsoka picked up, "we would not be seeing pieces this large, and the hangar would be much less intact."

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><p>The Temple Labs were located on subbasement 34, far away from prying eyes or external disturbances. Across the gaping ventilation cavern loomed the towers of the smelting complex, while here behind starship-grade transparisteel, Jedi in hazmat suits and masks fiddled with chemicals, concoctions, compounds and formulae.<p>

Ahsoka Tano and Kellros Heshcom were here on a slightly different affair. Occupying an analysis bench, they were going over bits of debris with a microscope and a fine-toothed comb.

"As I have stated numerous times," Russo-ISC whined, "The explosion appears to have been caused by nanodroids. I do not—"

He was cut off sharply. "And as I have stated," Kellros all but growled, "Nanodroids do not exist."

Russo looked affronted. "Really, Detective, your limited organic mindset does not lend itself well to matters of investigation. Perhaps I should report your inadequacy to Master Windu. I am sure—"

Whatever Russo was sure of, the galaxy shall never know, a bright pink saber blade hissed to life long enough to spear his processing core and then retracted back into the shoto held by Ahsoka Tano. Giving the few surprised scientists in the room a jaunty salute, she went back to studying the current piece of debris.

"Whoever did this…" Ahsoka muttered, "They went to an extraordinary amount of effort to push that theory.

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><p>Night was rapidly taking hold of Coruscant, and per time-honoured tradition, Jedi were assembled in the Council chambers, hearing matters of import.<p>

"I will know for certain when the forensics department finishes their work," Ahsoka reported, "However for now it appears that the hangar bombing consisted of several detonations of military-grade shaped explosive, strategically applied as to produce more theatrical carnage."

"When you say 'theatrical carnage'," Master Windu began, "What do you mean, exactly?"

"Just a minute," Ahsoka cautioned, producing a datachip and inserting it into the viewer courtesy of the Force.

"These are some plausible explosions," She narrated, as various holographic fireballs bloomed into existence, spreading outward and tossing about chunks of simulated debris. "LAAT/is are rugged ships, but are more designed to withstand external forces rather than maintain internal integrity. In which case, one could easily be disabled by a small charge that, as you see, hardly causes a smoke, let alone destruction. If one went a more dramatic route in search of casualties, you could detonate the anti-personnel ordnance, breach the fuel tanks, or overload various power systems. That's in the 'small range' as it were."

Ahsoka keyed to the next set of simulations, "On the other end of the spectrum, if you went for destruction of the airframe, you could look at thermite solutions to degrade the hull, demolition charges at key structural weaknesses, or simply apply a lightsaber to it."

A ripple of grim amusement passed through the Councillors, but it passed swiftly. Master Windu again spoke, "So, what you say, Padawan Tano, is that the job was a waste of good explosives?"

"In essence, yes." she nodded. "A large amount of 'blunt' explosive would tear apart the gunship, but would also produce smaller debris and damage the hangar. A concussion explosive would burst the cabin at the seams while leaving the wings crumpled but intact. Disabling the gunship could be done more precisely and efficiently, and so could producing casualties."

The council sat in silence for a time, exchanging thought on currents of the Force and gazing into its depths. Then, decisively, a few heads nodded, and Master Plo Koon leaned forward, "Ahsoka, what is your 'unofficial' reading of the situation?"

She too took a moment to think, then spoke, "To me, it seems that this was a coordinated, multi-phase attack against the Order. The amount of explosive used would be tough to smuggle into the Temple, and would take an extraordinary time to apply so precisely. Further, the Attacker – at this time unknown – did a thorough job of suggesting that the bombing was committed courtesy of nanodroids – a technology which is not in existence and has been widely proven to be impossible to manufacture."

Catching her breath, Ahsoka continued, "I would hypothesise that the Gunships were treated with the shaped explosives at a dockyard or other facility, further, they were applied _into_ not _onto_ the structure, which would imply a very large inside job or a deliberate 'retrofit', which excludes the run-of-the-mill terror cell. Once ready, the gunships were flown into the Temple, bypassing the normal weapons tests, naturally. The detonation occurred once all crew was aboard, which excludes a timer, as the party was delayed by a good half hour due to traffic, and also proximity or motion sensors, as the prep crew went over the ship without problem. This means that another party was there to manually push the trigger, after getting visual confirmation."

Ahsoka sobered abruptly. "I can also say for certain that at least one of the Jedi aboard that ship survived the initial blasts. Parts of the wreckage were found far beyond where the explosion could have thrown them, as if someone tried to free themselves. The only question remains, who killed that survivor…?" Ahsoka trailed off, deeply disturbed.

Master Piell did nothing for her mood. "The same man who triggered the explosions. He vas later shot dead by Kal Skirata vile attempting to flee the scene."

Despite assuming as much in her mind, Ahsoka was still a little startled to hear it said aloud. She was about to question the master on the matter, but Mace Windu spoke first. "Your assumptions are indeed correct, Padawan Tano. Correct to the last. There is a plot to destroy the Order, and with this attack, the Supreme Chancellor has just shown his hand."

To say that Ahsoka was baffled in the extreme would have been a momentous understatement, so blunt was Master Windu's remark. Yet again though, before she had the opportunity to answer, he continued, "This attack was meant to distract the Jedi from the situation on Mandalore, by forcing us to hunt for the culprits and sure up our defences rather than mount a liberation campaign, thus acting as valuable propaganda against the Order. Something along the lines of hypocrisy or negligence, no doubt."

"So, what's the current plan of action?" Ahsoka wondered, switching to her commander mindset.

"Assuming you're willing to go along with this," Master Windu waited for a preliminary nod before proceeding, "The bombing has given us an opening to start a devious scheme of our own, involving a great deal of subterfuge, yelling, theatrics, and fireworks. How we proceed from here, at the moment, depends on whether or not you sign on, but that decision lies solely with you, as this mission will require great sacrifice and this Council cannot, in good conscious, force it on anyone."

Ahsoka was thoughtful. The solemn atmosphere in the chamber had brought on a whirl of dread through the Unifying Force, showing her glimpses of possible futures. Even so, she kept her head. "How does my acceptance change the plan? She asked, then, as a second thought, added, "If that's not classified."

Obi-Wan chuckled warmly, "It's classified, but you're authorized to know. The Council believes that your connection with the investigation is likely to draw the attention – and action – of those who perpetrated the bombing and their associates. Assuming you sign on, we're going to go through with the trademark Anakin 'spring the trap' approach which will likely end with a lot of upset people and dead bodies. If you chose to sit this one out, we'll send you on a mission to one of the Jedi outposts with a platoon of Shadows and make sure that whoever takes your spot makes a lot of noise to draw the attention away from you."

Ahsoka considered it again, weighing risks and possibilities, feelings and thoughts, then she said two words: "I'm in."

"Good!" Master Windu exclaimed, relieved. He stood from his seat and strolled about the chamber, "Republic Intelligence just transferred one of the bomber's accomplices to their custody, and there will be a funeral service tomorrow, after that I think—"

Master Windu would have gone on thus for hours, but Obi-Wan interrupted him, "What I think Mace meant to say," he said, pointedly jabbing the other councillor in the ribs with an elbow, "...was 'Welcome to Project Esk, Ahsoka."

* * *

><p><strong>And there you have it, worldbuilding over, stage set and cameras rolling...<strong>

**Next chapter will start what I'd like to call "the story proper", featuring some yelling, some fireworks, and generally being a very loose reimagining of the events in** _To Catch a Jedi_.

**On another note, this chapter actually got back on track in terms of mood; once again to slightly dark, serious and forboding. But, the campish (as Count Mallet put it) humour will still return, just at an unforeseen date and time much further down the line. (at least until chapter 10, I think ).**

**Speaking of mood and setting, I am really proud of this chapter in that it differs vastly from **_Sabotage_** not for the sake of differing, but by involving actual procedure into the investigation, as well as conclusions, analysis and logic, all of which the original ... lacked. Despite being peacekeepers, it had never been stated that the Jedi had any experience with crime scenes or investigation, which _sort-of_ excused the monstrocity of Russo-ISC.  
><strong>

**Pertenant**** notes:**_ Kellros Heshcom_** is an on-the-go anagram of** _Sherlock_ Holmes.

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><p><strong>I regret to cut this section short, but unfortunately, my notes on this chapter were obliterated by FF.N's engine (details below).<strong>

**Thank you for your understanding and for reading, guys! May the Fiction Be With You!**

**Now for the details: FF.N is _attempting_ to maintain security and block cross-site scripting in user submissions, they are doing this by filtering HTML tags when files are "saved" on the server. IN actuallity, cross-site scripting can still be done, (laughably easily, actually) and their sifter interferes with their own coding.**

**I do most of my story formatting through the local _doc manager_ because FF.N has been known to wipe even things like centering from uploaded files, and this is where I run into the problem. Instead of using «em» or «i» tags for formating _italic_ text, the system did a «span» with a style="" attribute. I do not have the foggiest as to why they did it, but the fact remains, and I lost about a page worth of observations when the «span» was eliminated (along with everything that came after).**

**«p class="sarcasm"» Good on you, FanFiction! Keep up the _stellar_ work! «/p».  
><strong>

_**(No, seriously, I half want to move all my stories to my own site...only thing that's holding me back is lack of exposure...so, less followers)**_

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><p><strong>Updated 1311/14, 1020 GMT: Fixed FF.N's mess. Thanks** _Count Mallet_** for alerting me.****  
><strong>

Clean word count: 1,883 | Originally Published: 11/11/14, mid morning GMT.


	5. Chapter Four

**Off Course**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

"_Yoda advocates patience, Mace Windu – moderation, I advocate shooting my way out of tense situations and Skywalker advocates aggressive negotiations. All told, I think So'ika did a good job of combining the four."_  
>—Kal Skirata on Ahsoka Tano's escape from Facility QZXP-ZHH, interview circa 33 GrS<p>

* * *

><p>The situation had devolved from the ludicrously ridiculous to the morbidly fascinating, climbed to a new peak of absurdity and took a screaming nosedive for the utterly bizarre. Or, in fewer words, it all went to Korriban on a cluster missile – really fast.<p>

Turning and tossing on her cot, Ahsoka tried, once again, to figure things out.

* * *

><p>The funeral for the six Jedi and three clones who died during the bombing was held in the early Centaxday morning, the pyres burning out with the onset of daylight. The assembled began disperse; the Council to continue scheming, the politicians to continue doing nothing of importance in the grand scheme of things and Master Anakin – eye twitching – somewhere with Tarkin.<p>

Ahsoka, now armed with facts from Temple Forensics, was about to drop by the local CSF precinct and report to Kellros that the explosion was indeed caused by shaped charges – BlasTech VapeTape, to be precise. She had just started her speeder when GAR Dispatch rang in. "8266 - Control, please respond."

"Control, 8266, send traffic." Despite the few hours of sleep she had gotten, Ahsoka's voice was clear and level, an old affectation from both the JOP and her time on the _Leveller_.

"8266, Control. 1010 requests your presence at QZXP-ZHH."

_Tarkin's base?_ Ahsoka wondered. That was strange. "Control, 8266. Did 1010 give a reason?"

"8266, Control. He says 'the prisoner wishes to see Commander Tano. Tell JO-8266 it's moderately urgent.'"

With a sigh, Ahsoka nosed her speeder out of the _exactly opposite_ portal she needed and called, "Control, 8266 acknowledges."

* * *

><p><em>Yes<em>. She thought. _That was probably where the Sith began to hit the fan._

The interview with Letta Turmond had gone much as expected, with a lot of histrionics and attempted violence. Ahsoka had, rather patiently, weathered the storm before asking, "Why did you call me here?"

Letta jerked back, as if slapped. "W-what? They said you're the one who ordered this gig. They even had me moved from max-sec to here!"

That puzzled Ahsoka, for it was her understanding that 1010 – that was CC-1010, Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard – had requested her presence on behalf of Turmond, who Ahsoka sensed, was telling the truth and genuinely confused.

Being a CSF investigator and an experienced combat commander, she grew quickly suspicious, and it was about then that Letta Turmond began to choke. A quick probe revealed that it was a Force-caused ailment, such as her master was prone to dishing out on occasion, but _somehow_ her waving at the camera – the door was soundproofed – to get the attention of the guards was misconstrued as contributing to the choking, one thing led to another, and she found herself in max-sec.

Ahsoka had spent a noticeable chunk of the war in prison, either as unfortunate encounters with the separatists or as bait. In all circumstances, she had Master Anakin and a company of murderous clones on the way to bust her out, not glaring at her through the force field.

Even so, Coruscant's max-sec was pitiful by her standards, and she could have easily broken out at any time. She didn't though, preferring to bide her time and think on what precisely happened.

* * *

><p>Taungsday came and went, and so did Zhellday. Tarkin had been by to gloat, as well as the food service droids, but she was yet to be officially charged with anything, which now made her detainment unlawful. Technically speaking, her original detainment was unlawful as per one of the newest Security Act amendments, giving Republic Military officials immunity, but she had gone along with it to pacify the situation and see what came about.<p>

In the outside world, the sun was slowly sinking on a Benduday evening when a spike of danger through the Force sent Ahsoka jerking upwards. At a glance, nothing was amiss, save for a faint green mist oozing from the food tray. Moving to investigate, Ahsoka caught the sight of a midnight robe disappearing around the corner with her peripheral vision, she would have spared more thought and Force sense had her attention not been caught by a dioxis canister.

"Now this is getting interesting." she chortled, "Wild accusations, assassination attempts in prison, someone really doesn't like me."

The new order of the day in maximum security prisons the galaxy around were small chambers with ray-shielded doors and tiny portals for food trays, the reasoning being that a shield was harder to breach the conventional way, as opposed to say, a blast door that could be sliced with a saber or fusion cutter, blown open, or even jacked up.

Of course, one could cut power to the shield emitters by any number of ways. Or simply overload the generator, as Ahsoka did. Focusing on the Force, she traced the heavy leads running from her cell's emitters to the appropriate generator, furrowed her brow, and sent a surge through the system, blowing the whole thing out.

As she theatrically dusted herself off and exited her cell, she saw smoking debris and a generator-sized hole in the ceiling further down the corridor. _"So Long!"_ Was her parting thought.

* * *

><p>Something was again, <em>not right<em>.

Much like Master Obi-Wan's _bad feeling_s, Ahsoka had lost count of how many times she had thought that in the past week. The answer was "disproportionally many".

Knowing that her escape was most likely noticed by now, she had taken to travelling inside the ventilation systems, her old pal when it came to moving covertly when enemies patrolled the corridors.

Apart from unobstructed travel, she was also given a first-row view of her pursuit, as well as several clone bodies, first knocked unconscious, others killed, and others dismembered by a lightsaber. That reminded her, she still needed to get her weapons and gear back. Changing course, she crawled to the security centre, and after setting off a few diversionary alarms, pulled off the grate and dropped down.

"Freeze, Jedi!" A voice barked. Though all the clones had near-identical voices, they nevertheless differed in inflection and mannerism. This particular buckethead was Commander Fox himself. Being born into the position of commander he fancied himself superior to almost the ARCs, despite having never set foot on a real battlefield and fired his blaster on only two occasions outside a parade or shooting range.

Needless to say, the Coruscant Guard was held in low esteem by the field-going members of the GAR. That low esteem showed in Ahsoka's voice as she tilted her head and asked, "Or what?"

"Or I shoot you for killing my men!" he growled, shouldering his carbine to illustrate his point.

Pretending to indulge him, but instead stretching out her awareness to locate her equipment and gage the situation, Ahsoka prodded, "And, Commander, what where your men killed with?"

"Lightsaber, of course, no get on the floor!"

"Oh?" Ahsoka did her best to look genuinely surprised, widening eyes and pitching tone, "Then how do you explain that my sabers are on YOUR SHELF?" To punctuate her words, she extended her hand. A locker burst open, and her weapons flew into her grasp.

Fox fired.

With a snap-hiss, two neon pink blades burst into life and intercepted the first volley, sending it ricocheting into the walls. The clone would have gone on doggedly firing but Ahsoka had places to be. Twitching a little finger she ripped the blaster from Fox's hands.

"Now, listen to me," she said in a deadly growl, looking directly into his helmet cam. "I got called to this facility supposedly upon request of the prisoner. Funny thing though, the prisoner made no such request. The prisoner was later choked by means of the Force, and the nincompoop at the monitoring station assumed I did it. Fine, I cooperated. You have the right to detain any Republic citizen for forty-eight hours without explanation. It's been nearly ninety-six and I still have not heard a charge, never mind that I am both a Jedi and a GAR Officer – double political immunity."

Her montrals twitched. Someone was coming; she'd have to keep this short. "I fully cooperated until someone tried to assassinate me. Trust me, Fox, if I wanted you – or any of your men – dead, we would not be talking."

The rifle flipped over in the air, travelled a distance to get some run-up distance, then suddenly charged and struck him in the helmet with the butt.

Fox's body crumpled against the wall, unconscious.

Relieving him of his comlink, thermal detonator and sidearm, Ahsoka triggered the lockdown and charged out into the night.

* * *

><p>"This is Bravo, I need extraction." Her gambit had worked…partially. Engaging the lockdown had trapped her pursuers inside the prison bay corridors, leaving her to roam about the base grounds at will. Unfortunately, roam about the grounds was all she could do, as the lockdown had also secured the perimeter, and there were no ships on the airfield this late. No <em>working<em> ships. The two patrol LAAT/is that had tried to fire on her were a smoking wreck, pilots safely ejected and unconscious.

"Bravo, this is Omega. We're en route – ETA five minutes."

Ahsoka breathed a sigh of relief. Kal Skirata's Omega and Lambda squads were the current backup units for Project Esk; she was in business.

Naturally, it would be that exact time that the main gate into the facility blew open and a hoard of angry Coruscant Guards charged forth, blasters spewing fire. Ahsoka was up to par, rain falling about her, and the pink synthetic crystals crafted by her master thrumming savagely in her sabers, she stood on the highest landing pad, holding her foes at bay.

Thus it went, wave upon wave of troopers would attempt to rush Ahsoka's perch, foiled either by a gust of the Force, strategically applied clutter or the odd stun grenade 'mysteriously misfired'. Having held the line against battalions of battle droids using random firing algorithms, it was not much more than a leisurely exercise to deflect the laser storm hurting at her.

All leisure ended when reinforcements arrived, hauling rocket launchers. The platform hung over a pit into the underlevels of Coruscant, a jump even a Jedi would not take lightly, and the mass of troopers had pressed on to the foot of the ramp she had taken up, leaving her with no apparent opportunity to retreat. Sighing, she deactivated her shoto and began to wonder if she could spare the concentration to disarm the rocket troopers or to form a Force Shield of sufficient strength to hold the barrage. The Jedi were a decent margin more powerful than the general opinion held by the masses, and she was – though not on par with Master Anakin – still a powerful Jedi in her own right, but she was still a Padawan, and there were many things she did not know.

Then, as she prepared for her – probably last – stand, a floodlight swept over the scene. Coming from behind her, it did not affect her as much as it did the photosensitive visors of the clones. Tinted to near opacity, they did not see the modified ball turrets swing to strafe them with sonic crowd-control rounds.

An ascension cable was lowered from the troop bay, and over the whine of the engines a voice shouted, "So'ika, get on!"

* * *

><p>The Coruscant skyline flashed by outside the troop compartment of the commandeered LAATp, whizzing by in a dizzying whirl of coloured lights and garish advertisements. Of the six occupants though, only Atin and Darman took the time to enjoy the view, having nothing else they could do from their ball turrets.

Niner was piloting, while Pronto – Lambda's sergeant – Kal Skirata and Ahsoka gathered around the furious holographic form of Anakin Skywalker.

"You were what?" he bellowed, outraged.

"Nearly assassinated at the prison!" Ahsoka shouted back over the wind.

"Right, remind me to kill whoever was responsible later." No-one doubted Anakin's threat. The last person to threaten senator Amidala was found perforated with laser fire, and the team sent after Ahsoka's most recent would-be assassin needed treatment for PTSD after the clean-up.

"For now, we have another problem." He had continued, "The Supreme Chancellor has put a bounty on your head worth ten million. I'll try to get him to lift it one way or the _other_ but for now you're gonna have to lay low, at least until the council can dispatch a Shadow team to pick you up and bring you to the Temple safely."

"Understood," Ahsoka nodded, "I'll have Kal drop me off on Level 1331 and we'll see how it goes. Ahsoka out." She terminated the connection and was about to turn to Niner but Skirata was already nodding him on.

"Good luck, Kid!" He bade her.

Ahsoka smiled, looking outward. _She would need it._

* * *

><p><strong>This was a very...strange chapter to write. <strong>

**My first draft of it turned out at 5k words...my second draft would have been 6k, had I not stopped about half way. With a lot of creaking, I managed to get it down to ~2k. Even so, that's more than this story's average (currently 1,430.4 words/chapter). **

**I also, to some mild shame, discovered that I was referring to this chapter as "To catch a Jedi", while the actual name was "The Jedi who knew too much". I am sorry for any confusion this caused.**

**A heads up: last chapter's author's note was truncated because of FF.n's formatting and filtering idiosyncrasies, so all my notes were erased.  
>I did reconstruct the most important part, though!<strong>

**Anyway, pertenant notes: In Mando'a (the language of the Mandalorians), the suffix -'ika is an effectionate diminutive used for names. (kind of like the Russian -chik). In this chapter, it is used for Ahsoka - So'ika. I dropped the "Ah" in "Ahsoka" for ease of pronounciation, as often happens. Often, male names are the least altered, while female ones require a bit more effort: An'ika - Anakin, Yod'ika - Yoda, At'ika - Atin.**

**Female names like Ahsoka, Padmé and so forth are harder to apply this principle to as Pad'ika/Padm'ika do not really _fit._ So for Padm130, it would be either P'ika or M'ika, Mirax (Terrik) - Mir'ika, and sooooooooo forth.**

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><p><strong>Calendars in Star Wars have beeen things of contention for a long time. The early EU used a 5-day, 7-week, 10-month calendar, (By early I mean Zahn and even Traviss), while lazy people such as Lucas used the Earth-like 12-month.<br>**

**I personally hold to the good ol' Galactic Standard Calender (so 10 month years) because, lets face it, it's WAY better when each month has got the same ammount of days (35). Further, the 12-month calender has never been adapted to the 368-day Coruscanti year (a number which, erroniously, was confirmed by Lucas) while the 10-month has! (3 public holidays and 3 festeval weeks)**

**The days of the calender week are as follows: Primeday, Centexday, Taungsday, Zhellday, and Benduday. Of course, this is all "Legends", but unless Disney REALLY blows my mind with Ep7, I'll be sticking with Legends canon for a VERY long time to come. (Which is why I'll never get a job at LucasFilm, they say)**

**The callsign Ahsoka uses, 8266 or JO-8266 is a representation of "TANO" on a standard alphanumeric (so phone) keypad. JO, in this case, stands for Jedi Order, just as RC stands for Republic Commando, CC for Clone Commander, CT Clone Trooper and so on.**

**This simple naming system is not official, and was based off 645 (later 6425) - my callsign during a series of training exercises.**

**QZXP-ZHH is a rather simple frequency cypher that I highly encourage my younger readers not to investigate, as it portrays very bluntly what I think of Tarkin. ...Very bluntly :-)  
><strong>

**The LAAT/p is an on-the-spot invention, a non-lethal weapons suite based on the normal LAAT (Low Altitude Assault Transport) platfrom used by police forces as a crowd control vehicle. Just think, you've got your ball turrets to spray non-lethal shots, it's big, it's scary, has capacity for missiles and megaphones, and a lot of cranky officers.**

**A breif note on Ahsoka's skills...It was my belief that the Jedi were...shall we say, underpowered in post 2006 EU (Except TFU, but that's a game, so what do you expect), so this story will see some "rebalancing" at it progresses, but more on that later.**

**For now, thanks for reading, and may the fiction be with you!**

Clean word count: 2,181 | Published: 15/11/14, 0438 GMT


	6. Chapter Five

**Off Course**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

"_I've seen some pretty strange things in my day, done a lot of crazy stuff, from my first missions as a Padawan to that unfortunate incident with a dreadnaught, separatist fleet and a black hole. I still insist that the 'Coruscant Adventure' – as we have come to call it – was one of the most bizarre and harrowing of them all."_  
>—Ahsoka Tano, interview on HoloNet: Legends, circa 33 GrS.<p>

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><p>The universe had a predisposition for irony and took great pleasure in the bafflement of its denizens, Ahsoka thought. She was in a dark alley on Coruscant's Level 1327, crouched over a dying body. Unlike the handful of Quarren at the alley's entrance, this one was not her doing, <em>yet<em>.

"Ventress?" She prodded the body in question, swathed in rags and grievously injured. "What did you get yourself into now?"

For two years they had been enemies, ever since Asajj Ventress decided to drop by on Teth for afternoon tea and up until Dooku had forsaken his assassin at the battle of Sullust, where she had fallen off the grid.

They were probably still enemies, but as Ahsoka commanded armies in the Outer Rim and Ventress slunk about various hives of scum and villainy, they hadn't had the opportunity to sort things out. Ahsoka was rather temped to do so now, her index finger hovering beside the activation stud on her shoto, but she reminded herself, _she was the decent, good-guy here._

"Stow it, Tano!" Ventress spat in response to Ahsoka's greeting and question, "Shouldn't you be saving someone or studying, anyway?"

Ahsoka smirked sardonically, "But I am; I'm saving you, and studying how it feels to have a ten-million credit death mark."

Through her pain, Ventress rasped a chuckle. "Finally broke ways with Skywalker? Or did you mouth off to some senator?"

"Admiral, actually." Ahsoka retorted, busying herself with first aide that was a good three hours overdue, "According to Tarkin, I'm responsible for the bombing of the Jedi Temple, sedition, collusion, something reckless or another, gross misconduct, murder of a prisoner, and half a dozen other charges I couldn't be bothered remembering."

Doped up on a full course of painkillers from Ahsoka's medkit, Ventress was a fair deal more relaxed, and also available to crack jokes. "My, I think I might actually have a shorter sentence! I need to catch up. Know of any banks that I could rob?"

Ahsoka appreciated the humour, but sensing a clone patrol on their way, knew that she was running low on time. "I'll suggest a few _if_ you survive." Finished with her work, she put her medkit away and turned suddenly grim. "That is a big 'if' though."

Ventress looked weary; despite her mockery and boasting, she knew her own limits and the measure of her opponent. At the moment, her state was severely weakened, she doubted if she could even lift a limb, and her opponent had gained a degree of ruthlessness and cunning.

It was ruthlessness she saw this time. "I don't trust you." Ahsoka said rather bluntly, "I don't know you, don't know your reasons for following Dooku, your reasons behind your career choices afterwards – anything. I helped you because dying in an alley is not the way a Jedi – or Sith – should go. But I can't have you turning me in or attacking me, so the question stands: do I kill you outright and save myself the consequences, or do I send you unconscious to the Jedi to do as they please?"

As she saw the saber hilt raise in preparation, it was the first time Asajj Ventress felt respect for anyone in over a decade. Killing her would have been the Sith thing to do, while sparing her without question would have been naïve. As did Ky Narek in those years long past, Ahsoka had given her a choice; fight or move past her past.

"I will return to the Order." She said, contentment falling over her, as she made her own decision once more. "I probably should never have left."

With a sigh, Ahsoka lowered her hilt. Be it pummel or emitter, she was not yet so cold as to use either without hesitation on an unarmed person, even if that person was the insufferable Ventress. "I don't know if you should be moved or not," she said, "But we're running out of time."

Getting up and spotting a speeder parked at a club not far away, Ahsoka called upon the Force to lift Asajj's body and float it into the back seat. She set the autopilot to go straight up and squawk on the Jedi Medical frequency, and with a mild compulsion to sleep, sent Ventress on her way.

* * *

><p>The warehouse on 1312 was a colossal dump. In both senses of the word, Ahsoka discovered, peaking over a pile of rubble and seeing the floor strewn with industrial debris.<p>

On some cosmically-unknown impulse, Ventress had told her about her attackers; a Mirialan and Twi'lek, and their place of confrontation. Foreseeing a trap, Ahsoka had checked in with the Temple and had ventured forth. So far, all was quiet, but that did nothing to allay her suspicions.

She was right to be weary, for as she was about to rise from her cover, a shadow picked itself up of its bedroll and moved along the catwalks below, moving into the ruins of the manager's office. Enhancing her senses through the Force not being the best idea with a roaring furnace in the next complex along, Ahsoka chose the next best thing: being there herself. Affixing her ascension cable to a girder, she repelled down, landing on a shadowed stretch of scaffolding across from the office.

She arrived to see the argument already in full bloom. One of the figures seemed to be female, garbed in a robe of midnight black, and standing calmly in the centre, weathering the storm from the other, a Cerean by all appearances who stormed to and fro, gesticulating wildly.

"…no, Lady Zentria, this has gone quite out of hand." He raged, "Jinx and I were promised revenge on Tano, but for the past six months we did nothing but skulk in the shadows. Then, the Temple got bombed. Did your Lord Sidious deign to tell you what his 'shake up the Jedi' strategy was? Now, six Jedi are dead because of you and him – six Jedi and Jinx, who died fighting Ventress for your schemes. I'm out – my quarrel is with Tano for getting Kalifa killed, not the whole Order. You have failed to provide us with any—" his rant did not continue further. A hand raised from the folds of the black cloak, and the fingers curled into an ever-tightening fist.

"That's enough," a level voice condescended, "You and Jinx served your purpose, but now, your usefulness has come to an end." Lady Zentrious loosened her grip a little, allowing the Cerean to catch a lungful of air to live through her own rant. "Your persisting devotion to the Jedi Order – hatred for Tano notwithstanding – prevented you from becoming more than a tool. And every true Sith knows what to do with a tool that has outlived its usefulness – it is discarded." On her last word, her fingred clenched completely, there was a snap of bone, and the body crumpled to the floor, bereft of life.

For Ahsoka the conversation was altogether too surreal. The name Jinx was familiar to her, the young Twi'lek from Wasskah. Now that she thought on the matter, the Cerean could very well have been a slightly older O-mer, and Lady Zentrious' voice….

"Barriss?" she gasped, unable to stop a spike of shock through the Force. Instantly, the figure turned to her, though it did not raise a weapon or a head in attack, merely lowered its hood and beckoned.

"Come Ahsoka," her old friend purred sinisterly, "We need to chat."

"Most definitely." Ahsoka snarled, drawing her lightsabers and bathing the warehouse in their pink glow. With all that had transpired, she had forgotten to retrieve her original green crystals, and now looked like a wild Sith in her own right, sharp canines bared in a scowl, and posture clearly declaring she was ready to slice and dice unless she heard something _really good._

Barriss didn't even try on that regard. "You, Ahsoka, have ruined my life. I was there, with your Master on Ansion, when this whole kafuffle began. We fought side-by-side, passed through many a hardship, but then the war broke out. We were driven apart, I was still a Padawan to Master Luminara, my dear Anakin became a knight. For months I strived to pass my Trails of Knighthood, I was almost ready for the Trail of Spirit when **you** came along. Some **bratling** nobody from no-where that took the Chosen One's attention from **me**!"

Barriss took a breath, then continued, "That was bad enough, but then **you** dragged me through the hell of Geonosis **again!** I … Hate … **you!**" Her eyes, a calm blue usually, roiled with the liquid fire of the Dark Side, and she stood there, trembling with rage.

"I fought on the front lines no less than you, I did more for the Republic in the Rimsoos and **who** does the council recognize? **Who** does the HoloNet hail? Barriss Offee, Jedi Healer, or Ahsoka Tano, Tagalong? I want to forge my own destiny now, leave my own mark on the Universe. Not wallow in grief and misery under the fist of the Jedi Order."

"So you chose being a Sith…" Ahsoka snorted.

"Yes," Barriss said rather simply. "More power, and more opportunity to do as I wish. As is my birthright." She went as if to draw her saber, one that Ahsoka recognized as once belonging to Ventress, but then paused for a menacing second, "When you're out of the way, and the Jedi Order has been crushed, Anakin and I shall overthrow him and rule the Galaxy as the new Lords of the Sith."

In all her confrontations with Sith and Dark Siders – and they were many – Ahsoka had seldom encountered such frenetic hatred and zeal, not to mention such a lock of logic. _The Old Masters_, she thought, _had it right when they called it the 'Dork Side'_.

The old Jedi adage about there being no way back from the Dark Side was often misquoted, as she was, herself, a prime example of returning from there. The Dork Side though, filled with delusions and mindless self-interest, had no way back. It was thus that with a heavy heart she prepared to fight her long-time frind.

She really did not know what caused Barriss to snap; a lingering effect from the Geonosian Brain Worms, overall stress from the battlefields, her harrowing adventures on Drongar or something she was not aware of. It didn't matter, she had to be stopped, for even if she did not orchestrate the Temple bombing, she was still a threat, both to her herself, and to the rest of the Order.

"Surrender, Barriss," She soothed, as much as she could, even lowering her blades a trifle, knowing it wouldn't work, but needing to try. "You're a healer, I'm a guardian – I can beat you. Don't make me do it."

Barriss laughed coldly once more, "There is one thing I never told you about Drongar, 'Soka." She purred, drawing a vile from the folds of her robes, "Bota – that lovely little plant – greatly boosts one's connection to the Dark Side. I doubt you will be a match." Saying so, she sent a stream of purple lightning at Ahsoka.

The first forks struck the hilts of her sabers, knocking them out of Ahsoka's grasp. The second would have slammed into her chest, but _something_ happened. _Something_ clicked in the back of Ahsoka's mind. Raising her hand, she absorbed the oncoming flow of energy.

"And there's one thing **I** forgot to tell **you** about Mortis," Ahsoka growled with the effort, "I've been to the Dark Side, _**myself**__._"

Before Barriss could collect herself, Ahsoka lowered her hand, from the open-palmed shielding gesture into a predatory claw, pointed at her shrouded friend. Speaking words she did not know the origin of, she advanced, "The Jedi are right to call the Dark Side by such a name, for it draws on anger, and fear, and hatred, and all these emotions come from within, given you a momentary boost, but eating at your body. The Jedi have the right idea; let the Force flow through you, give you strength, and aid you in your battles. Now, my old friend, experience the _actual_ power of the Force."

Saying such, Ahsoka delved into the Force, half-instinctually gathering from around her electrons from passing atoms. Then, in a tremendous show of Force, a torrent of red energy burst from about her fingertips, engulfing the body of Barriss and overwhelming her frantic Force Shield.

It was done. Barriss Offee was dead.

Ahsoka lowered her hand, wearied and bewildered, and crumpled into darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, <em>To Catch A Jedi<em> is done. The Anti-Ahsoka faction has been taken down by unforseen circumstances and Sith Treachery, and all we have to cover is the trail, at least from the canoncical standpoint. After the trail - which I'll be sure to treat with the same logic as I did the rest of the arc - we'll move onto other galactic affairs. **

**I really did not intend for this to be another 2k chapter, but the plot grew a life of it's own as Ventress was sent off to the Jedi and I found myself here.**

**Pertenant Notes:**** Zentria - Barriss Offee's Darth title - comes from the word 'Resent' or 'Resentful'. It was first meant to be Zentrious, but...it struck me as too cliché and too masculine - Sidous, Tyrannus, so on.  
><strong>

**Bota is a plant from Drongar (MedStar books) that, as I siad, enhances connection to Dark Side. I didn't like the idea of that plant originally, but I found a way to use it to my advantage.**

**Rimsoo is a phonetic representation of RMSU, Republic Mobile Surgical Unit - field hospital complex.**

**Wasskah was that moon where Ahsoka wound on in TCWS3.**

**Ventress' 'redemption' was a spur-of-the-moment decision - I was actually going to have her killed - but I suffered an attack of conscious and decided to leave her alive as a potential plot device - but I make no guarantees in that regard. **

**As for this, Force confrontation, it was one of the things that annoyed me in the series. Ahsoka was a front-line combatant, while Barriss was generaly a healer and had less experience with combat. So, there shouldn't have been such a wide skill desparity in their duels. The Force was what Barriss should have used and excelled, especially when I chucked in Bota.**

**As for Ahsoka absorbing and casting lightning...it has been an avenue I wanted to explore ever since Mortis came out. In that arc she had died, and was revived by the essence of the Daughter. Not a healing trance or something of the sort, but a full-blown, game-esque rivival. As Ahsoka was revived, so did the Daughter die, _transferring_ - it seems - her strength and/or essence into her. If we follow the Living Force - the Yoda version - side of things, wherein the Force is an energy field created by living things and some living things have more of it than others, than Ahsoka would absorb part of the power from the Daughter.  
><strong>

**If we consider the George Lucas Butchery circa 1999, Force is maintained by midiclorians so nothing happens because midiclorians are localized to the body, cannot be transferred, Ahsoka dies, Anakin goes on a killing spree, ya-da-ya-da-ya.**

**This - and the things i have planned for Obi-Wan and Yoda - make me, dare I say, excited to write the rest of this fic.**

**Tha stuff aside, what do you guys think on the "new and improved" motive for Barriss & Co.?**

**Okay, before I make a further fool of myself or give something improtant away, I'd like to thank you all for reading, and bid that the Fiction be With you!**

Clean word count: 2175 | Published : 19/11/14, 1201 GMT


	7. Chapter Six

**Off Course**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

"_Though no major battles were fought that day, the Trial of Ahsoka Tano was perhaps the turning point of the Clone Wars. Not in the scope of military might or strategic development, but as a catalyst for the events to come. While the outcome was never in doubt, the Trial gave the Jedi a firm footing with the public from which to launch their campaign, known to us as Project Esk."_  
>—Jorj Car'das, summarization of notes on the Clone Wars at the behest of the University of Alderaan, circa 33 GrS.<p>

* * *

><p>Ahsoka awoke to sweeping ceilings and beige walls of the Halls of Healing. Her back had a dull ache, perhaps from an awkward fall, her limbs felt leaden and something throbbed behind her temples.<p>

On the bright side, she was still alive. Alive, safe, and with friends. Across the recovery room sat her Master, Anakin, with Yoda and Obi-Wan on either side, quietly conversing. As she yawned and stretched, they looked up, and Anakin gave her a cheery, "Good morning, Ahsoka! Feeling better?"

That was an interesting question, as 'better' presumed a relative point of reference. A point of reference her fuzzy memories refused to establish. "Probably," she answered in all honesty, "What did I miss?"

"Mainly your arrest and some theatrics," Anakin summarized, handing Ahsoka a cup of cool water. At her curious look, he elaborated. "Lieutenant Roundel of the Coruscant Guard apparently found you 'in possession of nanodroid explosives.' Naturally, Tarkin was all over it."

Ahsoka groaned, sinking back against her pillows, _was that guy obsessed?_

Shaking his head grimly, Obi-Wan joined the conversation, "It gets worse, I'm afraid. The Senate has ordered you tried for treason and a whole slew of things ranging from the comical to the absurd."

"Can they do that?" Ahsoka wondered, thinking back to her lessons in policy and politics with Padmé and Chuchi, "I thought Jedi had diplomatic immunity or something of that sort."

"We do," he agreed, "In so far as that no agency has the right to detain or prosecute members of the Order. However, you are being charged as an officer of the GAR, not as a Jedi – a loophole made possible thanks to _yet another_ constitutional amendment overnight."

"My actions – save, perhaps, my escape – were within the letter of the Republic law, near as I can recall it," Ahsoka mused, "What kind of case does Tarkin have?"

Anakin snorted derisively, "A flimsy one. He overcommitted to the offensive, and didn't sure up his footing. The Temple Lawyers are gonna have a field day with this one, if it ever comes to the courtroom."

"Why is that an 'if'?" Ahsoka asked, "Is the Council not going to comply with the Senate on this?" Though the prospect of being on trial did not appeal to her she did see the potential for a public relations coup if it turned out in her favour – if not, well…

"Like hell we are!" Anakin barked, "My Padawan is **not** going on **any** trial!"

Yoda, perched on a cabinet, looked amused. "Even those of knighthood, hm? Holding back your Padawan, you are, hm? Jealous are you? Overly critical? Never listen do you? Heard this before, we did."

Anakin was somewhat abashed, "Well, you know what I mean…" he mumbled, waving a hand.

"Know this, I do," Yoda confirmed, jumping down, "Just messing, I was. When eight hundred years old you reach, sarcastic, you will still be. Even so, Young Ahsoka, nothing to fear you have. On your side, the Council is. On this matter, move we will not."

"Perhaps," Ahsoka suggested, "You should…"

* * *

><p>Admiral Tarkin flew flailing across his office before thudding into the back wall. Anakin, lightsaber lit, advanced on his crumpled form.<p>

He had left the Temple an hour ago, following his Padawan's harebrained decision to appear at the trial despite the Council's efforts on her behalf. _"Public relations my afterburner!"_ Anakin had growled, storming to a turbolift, Obi-Wan in tow. Never mind. He was going to handle things _personally_. And he would start with the prosecution.

"Tell me again," he all but roared, "Why you have this vendetta against my Padawan!"

"I have no vendetta, General Skywalker." His target wheezed, "I am merely preserving the interests of the Republic. You would do well to desist, lest—"

"Osik!" Anakin barked, cutting him off, "My Padawan is as loyal to the Republic as am I, or do you question my teachings and integrity?"

Picking himself up and dusting himself off, Tarkin tried to regain the offensive. "I have never trusted the Jedi Order, General Skywalker. They have always reframed from doing what was necessary, and often maintained their own interests above the Republic." He paused, then striking upon an idea, moved to his desk and keyed something in, "Furthermore, I have visual evidence that your Padawan deliberately choked Letta Turmond with the Force during a routine interview. Even if she did not commit the Temple bombing, as you seem to imply, murder of a suspect is a serious matter, which raises a lot of questions."

Anakin watched the footage first passively, then curiously, then he deactivated his lightsaber, slapped his knee in merriment and laughed uproariously. Tarkin did not see the humour, and was about to comment on this unprofessional display, when Anakin overcame his mirth and gasped, "What kind of admiral are you? You can't even differentiate between waving and command gestures! You call _that_ a Force Choke?" Anakin reached out a hand, drawing fingers together in a fist, "_**This**_ is a Force Choke!"

Gagging, Tarkin was lifted into the air, flailing desperately. Anakin's burst of humour subsided and he turned gravely serious. "I still remember you from Zonama Sekot, Tarkin. I was _that boy_ you intercepted while chasing after Sekotan ships. I was half tempted to leave you behind on the Citadel, but my Padawan saved your life. The very Padawan you are trying to frame and execute."

Even dangling in mid-air and struggling for breath, Tarkin was still defiant. When the Force grip lessened, he laughed as derisively as he could. "You would not have been able to leave me behind on Lola Sayu, your Jedi Principles and the fact that General Piell had only half of the Nexus Route coordinates." After a gulp, he continued, "Like it or not, Skywalker, your Order is not above the Republic, and those who will not serve the Chancellor will be eliminated, just as your Padawan. And there will be nothing you can do." Tarkin would have proceeded onto a maniacal cackle, but the Force Grip tightened again.

"Tarkin," Anakin said, rather smugly, "There is one thing you should know. Master Even Piell was never on Lola Sayu. That was Knight Lenel Piev, and he never had the Nexus Route information, he was tasked with laying minefields along the Janara Approach."

As the Force closed completely on his throat, Tarkin's last thoughts were of failure and burning fleets. His vision began to shrink into a tunnel, and the world began to dim, and the last thing he heard was, "You have interfered with my affairs for the last time."

* * *

><p>The courtroom was packed.<p>

Decorated in the new 'Palpatine Style' of inset lights, gaping shafts and rail-less balconies, it would have been imposing to any prisoner. Any prisoner, that was, who was not certain of their innocence and preparing for a blistering defence.

In contrast to the Prosecution, Ahsoka and her lawyers were utterly calm, gazing at their opponents, the jury and Palpatine impassively, and making Ron Hastas pace all the more.

The case of 'Galactic Republic vs. Ahsoka Tano' had now lasted two hours. After the initial absence of Chief Prosecutor Tarkin had been sorted out – normally, the session would have been adjourned, but the extensive Jedi involvement in the case mandated a speedy resolution, as their efforts were needed in the war – Ron Hastas had taken up the offensive.

He was a typical bureaucrat, gaunt, pale, sporting jelled hair and a Coruscanti accent, utterly unimaginative, and more importantly, completely spineless.

The litany of charges he had levied ranged from burglary, loitering, littering and even failure to supply identification, to murder – fifteen counts – reckless conduct endangering life, assault and sedition. The charges were impressive, the evidence was not.

"Let us take a look at your _'evidence'_ of Ahsoka's possession of nanodroids…" Tera Sinube hummed, "You say she was found in possession of them, Lieutenant Roundel?"

"Correct." Came the crisp reply.

"Were they in her apartment?"

"No."

"Were they in any vehicle owned or operated by Commander Tano?"

Again, a: "No."

"Was she handling them?"

This time, the 'no' was tinged with aggravation and nervousness. It was the moment Sinube was after. Like many Padawans, he had joined the JOP, but after graduating, had chosen to stay on with CSF, becoming quite the expert in criminal affairs. This made him ideal for Ahsoka's defence. "So, how can you assert that she was in possession of them?"

A bead of sweat rolled across Roundel's forehead. "She was found in a warehouse, laying over nanodroid crates, sir."

"How does that 'constitute' possession though?" Sinube pressed, sensing the clone's will begin to buckle. "Per the report, Ahsoka Tano was found unconscious with injuries consistent with a fall. She could very well have been dumped their by a party seeking to frame her, no?"

Trembling, CL-7686 was dismissed with a panic attack.

"Now," Sinube announced smugly, "I wish to present Document Three-Three-Aurek to the court." The central holoprojector, and the smaller units of the jury, lit up with a scientific report. "As you see," Tera lectured, "This is an analysis of the 'devices' found to be the so-called 'nanodroids.' It is evident—"

He was cut off by a frantic Hastas, "Objection! This is a hearing for Ahsoka Tano, not a scientific forum!"

"Sustained," Palpatine droned, "The Defence shall get to the point. I have an appointment with the hairdresser."

"Yes, your Honour," Sinube acceded, "A detailed analysis of the molecular structure of these 'nanodroids' reveals that they lack any and all electronics. What we have here is basic wheat with traces of potassium nitrate and sulphur. Not even charcoal, which would have equated it to the old propellant of slugthrowers."

Viewers both in the gallery and in front of vidscreens the galaxy across laughed uproariously.

The controlled demolition of witnesses and evidence continued for a good six hours, those called by the Prosecution leaving in deep despair or panic, while character witnesses, chemical experts, and further 'heavy artillery' called in on Ahsoka's behalf were left to smugly walk the post-testimony lounge.

* * *

><p>The jury had adjourned to deliberate, and Ahsoka stood certain that she had won this day. Not only in her case, but won a battle for the Jedi Order. The Trial proceedings, marketed as "The Jedi's just deserts", had turned into a farcical, one-sided browbeating.<p>

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, outwardly calm, was seething. Were none of his minions competent? One task. Just one task he had given them: frame the Jedi, convict the Jedi. They had failed, it seemed, utterly.

As the situation stood, that Tano brat would be acquitted, which would not only put his plans back a few months, but would also allow the Jedi Order to respond to the crisis on Mandalore. Not only that, it would also mean that his humiliation of being stuck under his desk in search of Tarkin's business card was for nought! Where was that imbecile, anyway? He ought to have crushed this pathetic resistance, and his plans would be on track.

No matter, he had still one card to play, whether it would avail him in the end, or if he would need to run a few charity dinners to get his reputation back on track was yet to be seen.

"My dear colleagues," he announced sorrowfully, standing, "Some disturbing news has reached me. It appears that some members of the jury may have fallen under the enchantments of the Jedi Council. My audit specialists have informed me of mysterious transactions occurring, and unreported threats being waged. It is with a heavy heart that I must dismiss Senators Mothma, Iblis, Organa, Chuchi, Alavar, Taneel, Breemu, Cadaman, Derlin and Drake."

Dead silence.

In a single, fell swoop, Palpatine had eliminated ten members of the jury, leaving only Orm Fre Taa and Jasso Toryn, who were quite amenable to the Chancellor's point of view.

"I regret to make this decision," Palpatine continued, "But based on the evidence that I have seen presented by Prosecutor Hastas and on the opinion of Senators Taa and Toryn, this court must declare Padawan Ahsoka Tano guilty of treason."

This time, there was an uproar.

"On what grounds!" came a piercing call. The noise abated, and Ahsoka herself stood in her hoverpod. "On what grounds, Chancellor?"

Palpatine staggered back as if struck. For all his planning, scheming and Farsight, he had neglected to cover this one, single point. In his experience, Jedi were either arrogant – which allowed him to conceal his dark nature in their shadow – or timid, which allowed him to pull off most of his political machinations. He had not expected this little bratling of a Jedi to suddenly defy him.

It was a single miscalculation, resulting from a bad night's rest and a tired mind, and it had cost him dearly. At least, it would, if the Jedi regained their momentum. He would not allow that.

"Your evidence, while very … _elaborate_ … was provided by the Jedi Order, and thus its integrity must be questioned in light of recent developments. And I do not think your master would be pleased with your conduct here, has he taught you naught about respect?"

"Her Master," a powerful voice echoed across the chamber, "Is very pleased with Ahsoka's conduct. And furthermore, he is **very displeased** with the conduct of the Republic Judiciary!"

All heads turned to the main entrance. There lay two unconscious troopers of the Coruscant Guard, and there stood a furious Anakin Skywalker.

"By Paragraph 87, Section 232-Aurek, Chapter 55-7 of the Legal Procedures Act, 887, neither the Supreme Chancellor, nor any individual holding political office may summarily dismiss the jury. The right to petition a dismissal of the jury lies solely with the Chief Justice – who per Paragraph 23, Section 17, Chapter 34-1 may not hold political office. Such a petition must be handed over to the Galactic Court, and duly deliberated."

Anakin took a deep breathe, "In light of _**these**_ matters, and as a Knight of the Jedi Order – and thereby mandated, among other things, to uphold the law – I reinstate the jury. Furthermore, by consent of the jury, I dismiss this case on the grounds of political bias by members of the prosecution and the Judge."

On his podium, Palpatine sank back into his seat. Only years of politics and Sithness prevented him from groaning out loud and shaking his head. Even so, he could not but cast a furious glare at Anakin Skywalker. For all that he was the most powerful Jedi, and the best candidate for an apprentice, he was quite adept at messing things up.

Bowing his head in concession and departing the chamber, Palpatine could not but wonder what the Jedi had in store as retaliation.

* * *

><p><strong>...aaaaaand done!<br>We have just covered the last of the (reworked)canonical Season Five finale. Now it's off the beaten road and into the wilderness, as it were. **

**Ahsoka is acquitted, but Palpatine is in Anakin's bad graces, Darth Mall is still gallivanting across Mandalore, and Project Esk has yet to see the light of day.  
>Further, there is the matter of Ahsoka's <em>display<em> in the fight against Barriss that is yet to be resolved. **

**Now, pertenant notes:  
>Tarkin. In <em>A New Hope<em> he and Vader weren't exactly friendly, were they? Basically, Tarkin was cranky that Vader didn't have a military rank but ranked above him, and Tarkin wanted to one day take Vader's place (Palpatine's Right-Hand man.) Vader didn't like Tarkin being a bossy pain in the butt, or his policies (especially on slavery).  
><strong>

**In the book _Rogue Planet_, Tarkin is the head - and mastermind - of the fleet sent to secure Sekotan ships for study, and Anakin just so happens to be in one of them. Further, that ship is damaged by Tarkin's battlegroup, and being semi-organic, the ship dies. More reason for ANakin to have a grudge against Tarkin.**

**In _Season Three_ of TCW, I really didn't get the "acting like pals" part between Anakin and Tarkin. I was almost expecting a "When we get to Coruscant, lets go buy some drinks at the Outlander" moment. **

**Between his childhood encounter, and his Padawan being attacked/accused by Tarkin, I doubt Anakin would be too pleased with him.**

**GrS / BrS. Not sure if I mentioned that previusly, but this is the canonical dating system for this time period. GrS stands for Great ReSynchronization, and BrS means "before" (Great) ReSynchronization. 0 GrS is ~36 BBY, as we have come to know it, and I have come to use it a lot in my writing, as BBY/ABY follows the 12-month Calendar, whereas GrS, BTC/ATC (Before/After Treaty of Coruscant) and BRR/ARR (Before/After Ruusan Reformation) use the 10-month Galactic Standard.**

**Further, despite the nonsense written in NEC and other Essencial guides, I do not see how Yavin (BBY/ABY = After/Before Battle of Yavin) should be a point of time reckoning. Originally, when the EU was less diverse, the dating system was out of huniverse, using BSW4/ASW4 (Before/after Star Wars Episode IV), and the BBY/ABY calender was included as an in-universe adaptation for that. HOWEVER, Yavin was just a scene of a major Rebel victory. It was not the "rise" of the Alliance, as it was still powerful prior to that, and it was by no means "close" to the end of the war, as the (first) Galactic Civil still went on for 4 more years.**

**Endor is a much more logical event in history to act as Year Zero in a new calendar, as though, true, various Warlords and whatever still kicked up to about 8 ABY, the bulk of the Empire was crushed there, the Death Star, the Executor, most of the Fleet, Vader, and the Emperor. Yavin was a defensive action, Endor was an offensive action from which the Alliance began to advance.**

**Alternatively, Timothy Zahn's PE/E date system (Pre-Empire/Empire) is also logical and viable in view of Palpatine's ego.**

**And as a little - off topic - peeve, I have no idea why some people use the BBY standard in Clone Wars era fics. "Ahsoka awoke, looked on her clock and saw it was July 19th, 21 BBY". That always kills me.**

**Senators. The ones Palpatine tried to discredit were either members of the Rebel Alliance or were arrested/executed by Palpatine for other reasons. Makes sense to have them be the logical thinkers, right?**

**Anyhow, I think I'm done rambling, hope you guys enjoyed the read, had a good Thanksgiving, (I believe that was the holiday a few days back?), have a good day and May the Fiction Be With you!**

Clean Word Count: 2,550 | Published : 29/11/14, 0204 GMT


	8. Chapter Seven

**Off Course**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

"…_Disappointed, I am, by this body. Failed us, the Republic has. To fight your wars, much have we sacrificed, yet still doubt us, you do. On the front lines, the Jedi fight, your electorates protecting, while only opportunities you seek, manoeuvring, posturing and debasing. No point was there in Padawan Tano's trial, knew well, we all did, that innocent she was, that merely a public relations stunt, it was. Disappointed, I am…"_  
>—Master Yoda, excerpt of speech to the Senate, circa 16 GrS<p>

* * *

><p>Evening traffic whizzed by below as the convoy flew away from the Legislative Sector and toward the Temple. For many frontline Jedi, the LAATI was often more of a home then their bunks aboard ship or apartments on Coruscant, serving often as impromptu lodging when there were not enough tents or their placement was not advisable. That and their ubiquity had seen the LAAT/I move from a simple deployment vehicle to a military ferry, jokingly dubbed TaxiForce by the Padawans that often flew these runs.

This time, Ahsoka was not at the controls, instead, she was on the receiving end of a Wookiee hug, courtesy of her master.

"Never do that again!" he admonished, "That was nearly a disaster."

"But it wasn't…" she said, voice muffled, "Most of it was under control. At least until Chancellor Palpatine got involved."

Anakin stiffened at that, and a roiling cloud of anger manifested itself about him. "I don't know what had gotten into him." he growled, "I had deliberately asked him to preside at that trial to make sure it was fair!"

Ahsoka snorted. She had never liked Palpatine much, seeing him as a manipulative little shabuir who was adapt at pandering to the passions and prejudices of his senators while cementing his own power and doing nothing of substance for the war. In light of the Council's revelation of Palpatine's true identity, she was not surprised.

"Well, as Master Obi-Wan says, 'he's a politician and they are not to be trusted.'" She chortled in amusement. A moment later, she hummed thoughtfully, "I guess this is also why Jedi are not too fond of attachments; those times when you have to choose between one friend or another. Say, did he lift my bounty?"

Anakin didn't reply for a time, being lost in thought. What Ahsoka said had struck him. Palpatine was a friend, had been one ever since Anakin came to Coruscant. Over the years, he became quite like a grandfather, gifting Anakin with knick-knacks on his birthdays, and taking him to various children's attractions as a treat. He had never asked Anakin to do anything nefarious, save that one time involving Lott Dod's headpiece, but now that he thought on it, he had seldom felt content upon leaving Palpatine's office. Usually, it was small things, like wondering why Jedi didn't allow garbage pit racing, yet at others…

Ahsoka, on the other hand, he had trained her for years now, fought with her on uncounted battlefields, celebrated many victories, and saw her through defeats. She was brash, and daring, and argumentative – Force was she argumentative – and snippy, all the things that had exasperated Obi-Wan about Anakin himself, but still, when it came down to it, Palpatine was a distant figure, while Ahsoka was right beside him. He had grown to care about her, as many masters did, regarding them almost as children or siblings.

When he had come to Palpatine regarding Ahsoka's bounty and possible trial, the old man had told him, "I am sorry, Anakin, but as servants of the Republic we cannot discount any possibilities that could threaten our security."

When it came down to it, Ahsoka was more important than his friendship with Palpatine. It was plain and simple. Yet she was right, what if the choice was not so clear-cut? What if he had to choose between Obi-Wan and Padmé? He did not know.

"Master!" Ahsoka called his name for the sixth time, shaking his shoulder, "Not the time to be daydreaming!"

Coming back to the present, he looked out the troop bay doors to see what had Ahsoka's attention. Soon, it had his attention to. The East Tranquillity Garden atop the Temple ziggurat was teaming with reporters, cam droids, and Jedi. Obi-Wan Kenobi, dressed in his Jedi Dress Uniform, stood at a podium, giving a speech.

"…_for thirty five millennia has the Jedi Order stood as guardians of this galaxy, maintaining peace, justice and freedom. From the ravages of the Rakatan Infinite Empire, to the Conquests of Xim, to the chaos of the Pius Dea, the Onslaught of the Sith and the Advance of the Mandalorians, we have been there, holding the line when all others have failed."_

The voice reached them on the headwind before they entered actual hearing range, and what it bore rooted pilots and Jedi alike to their seats. On the third year of the war, the Negotiator finally delivered a speech that was longed for by many in the Order and the GAR, driving home truths that needed to be heard by the citizens of the Republic.

"_The galaxy is fraught with dangers; there are grim things in the dark places between the stars that would freeze the marrow in your bones if only you knew of them. These threats have the Jedi kept at bay, sacrificing things that you take for granted – family, homes, certainty and security – to keep you and yours safe. Even now, legions of Jedi hold the front in the Unknown Regions, against enemies intent on the subjugation of all life. Let me tell you about the Ssi Ruuk, who power their technology with the life energy of those unfortunates who they come across, or the Killiks, who live as a hive mind and ensnare all who spend time with them, becoming incapable of individual thought, only working for the good of the nest. The Vagaari roam from system to system, in search of resources and conquest, the Ebruchi and Lugubraa beset our west and Northern flanks, while we brace for the Nagai and Yuuzhan Vong, that gather their strengths, intent on storming the Galactic Rims."_

The LAAT/I approached on silent repulsorlifts, setting down behind rows of journalists. Out of the crowd, only one person spotted their approach.

"Anakin!" Padmé cried, rushing to him as he debarked, "What is going on?"

"What do you mean?" he said, puzzled. "Has something happened?"

"Something happened? Ahsoka nearly got convicted for treason, Master Yoda is chewing out the Senate for being blithering idiots, Obi-Wan is berating the Republic for its very existence, and you ask if something has happened? Anakin, what is going on?"

Ahsoka coughed slightly, "Senator Amidala, that is exactly what has happened." They turned to her, curious. Anakin had suspected something was amiss ever since his Padawan met with the Jedi Council after her report on the bombing, and her peculiar willingness to go along with the trial, however he was not sure what that 'amiss' entailed.

"Chancellor Palpatine has made one too many advances against the Jedi Order. We were inclined to leave well enough alone as long as it was just posturing and propaganda, after all, Jedi are not desirous of power and care little for public perception, but when Jedi were killed, and I was nearly convicted, things changed. The Council is no longer willing to sit passively by..." Ahsoka trailed off, lifting a hand and nodding at Obi-Wan.

_"…Neither I, nor Master Yoda, consider it prudent to speak for the Order as a whole. Some of us – Anakin Skywalker, Mace Windu – yet have faith in the Republic, and in a cessation of the Cold War between the Council and the Senate. However I, at least, have lost that faith. I hereby resign from the Jedi Order."_

A collective gasp went up from scores of throats from the humanoids, and other, equal displays of shock, from those with differing vocal organs. For three years, Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi was the spearhead of the Republic advance. The Third Systems Army and its fleets were ever at the forefront of conflict, driving back the forces of the CIS and pushing the Republic to victory. Now, the GAR had lost its foremost marshal.

Jedi were not commissioned officers, their military ranks being tied to their status in the Order, and a resignation from the latter meant an automatic resignation from the former. It was a system devised during the Ruusan Reformation, ostensibly to prevent 'rogue Jedi' from affecting the Republic Forces, but in reality was a system of control over the Order. While good on paper, it also threw a galactic-sized hydrospanner into any campaign where the Jedi were to lead.

_"By the action of its politicians, the Republic has failed the Jedi. Yet, even in these circumstances, the Jedi – and our politicians – shall not fail the Republic. Rather than withdrawing the Order's support entirely, we leave it to each of our members to decide, if they can still trust the Republic. Farewell, my friends, live long, fight well, stay alive, and the Force be with you."_

Stepping down off his podium, Obi-Wan Kenobi drew up his hood and disappeared into the shadows.

Though, ere the crowd could disperse or begin conversation, a new figure stepped up. Cin Drallig was of average height, strong of bearing and possessed a rumbling voice. The Order's Battlemaster, it fell to him to oversee the Temple Security Force, and to lead the Strategic Command, namely the command structure for the Shadows and the rest of the Jedi Order's military assets.

"Master Kenobi has spoken frankly, and we of the Jedi Shadows are in agreement. The Republic has strayed from what it once was, drawing the Order along with it. If the public no longer trusts the Jedi, no longer values our sacrifices, and no longer supports us, we see no reason to die and bleed for you. When you are ready, call, and the Jedi will answer, until then, I, Cin Drallig, resign." So he spoke, turning and leaving, and throwing the assembly into yet more confusion.

* * *

><p>"Obi-Wan, wait!" Anakin called, charging down the mezzanine and desperately needing things explained. The other heard him, stopped and turned to await Anakin, Padmé and Ahsoka. When they caught up though, Anakin did not know what to say. At least, coherently. After some effort, he plainly asked, "How long?"<p>

Obi-Wan looked grim; this conversation he was dreading ever since the inception of Project Esk. He knew, just as Master Yoda, that Anakin would not take being in the dark all that well, and especially not with the temper he was displaying in recent months.

"I am sorry, Anakin. Three years." He said.

"What brought this about?" Padmé wondered. She had long suspected that Palpatine was not the only one weaving conspiracies in the senate; she had often seen Bail Organa managing various cargo transfers that went out a bit beyond his normal work for refugee settlements; shipments of prefab barracks, surplus artillery, ships….

"There is a plot against the Jedi Order," Obi-Wan explained, "A plot to destroy it. The Chancellor's Office is too entrenched in affairs for the Order to handle the situation the normal way, so we decided to withdraw from the scene. We have been planning our exit strategy ever since Geonosis, and Ahsoka's contribution in the last days gave us a footing from which to act. Master Yoda should be finishing his resignation speech shortly. The first wave is already preparing to depart the Temple."

The next question, predictably, came from Anakin, yet contrary to expectations, it was asked levelly, and not in a berserk rage. "Why didn't you let me in on this?"

"Anakin, this project required great subtlety to avoid tipping the Sith off. There is more to leaving the Republic than just walking out the door; we need food, water, shelter, power, defences, it was a delicate operation. To be honest, we only finished our preparations last month."

Anakin's grin was wry, "And as we all know, I am not the most subtle of Jedi. I'd have probably just blundered into the nearest branch of KDY and said 'Yeah, well, we're leaving the Order, could you give us a few cruisers?' And, I guess, not telling me the plan was a good idea; after all, until recently, I was in very close contact with the Chancellor. So, is he, or someone on his staff, the Sith Lord?"

"Palpatine is Sidious." Obi-Wan confirmed. "And before you go haring off to behead him, keep in mind that he has a more advantageous political position. Though, I must say, I was not expecting you to take this all that well…"

Anakin snorted, "To tell you the truth, Obi-Wan, I would not have, had Palpatine not tried to have my Padawan executed. Do you think he just hates Snips, or is he on an agenda?"

"Probably the latter," Ahsoka piped up, "You know how you're overprotective, overbearing and completely ruthless when it comes to people you're close to? I'd figure he'd have been counting on you flying into a rage and either killing some of his enemies, or going to the Dark Side proper."

Anakin looked thoughtful, and then nodded in agreement, "That's probably it. So, what happens now? Want me to pack up and leave?"

"Now," Obi-Wan said, "We start vacating the Temple. Master Windu and Saesee Tiin are going to take over for Yoda and Cin, and the plan is for them to 'buckle down' on the Republic. I'm sure Mace can pull off the 'I am in charge, you do as I say' overbearing act while waves three through twelve evacuate. After that, we'll let Palpatine make his move. As Cin said, no point dying for a populous who thinks they don't need us. We'll come when they're fed up and need rescuing."

"In that case," Anakin proposed, "I will stay with Mace and help him with the overbearing act. I might even see if I can figure out what precisely Palpatine wants."

"Be careful, my old Padawan," Obi-Wan bade, "And may the Force be with you."

He began walking away down the corridor, when Anakin called after him, "Take Ahsoka with you, I don't think it'll be safe for her with all the Sith that is going to hit the ventilator in the coming months. Take care of yourself, old man!"

With a smile, Obi-Wan departed.

* * *

><p>The last rays of the Sun bathed the processional way in an ominous red. Along it, four abreast, strode columns of Jedi Shadows, embarking on an A-N124 Nulras deployment craft. At their head was Obi-Wan Kenobi, preparing to lead the liberation of Manda'yaim, and behind them, pacing sedately, came Master Yoda and Ahsoka. From an overhanging balcony, Anakin, Mace Windu, Padmé and Bail watched them depart, wishing them the best, and trusting in the Force.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>...and done!<br>The _Jedi's Trial_ arc is done, and the transitional chapter is done also. The near future holds the _Mand'alor_ arc, and the _Baggage of Mortis_ waypoint. After those, there are two more, the names of which I shall not disclose at present, in order to maintain the reader's curiocity (hopefully).**

**On another note, I am sooo glad I made that "no schedule" announcement early on in this story. Some things came up in recent weeks, and I didn't have the means or motive to write. And now, I post two weeks later, with a clear conscious!**

**Now, pertenant notes (only three, for this chapter, it is rather clear-cut)**

**A Jedi Battlemaster is a Jedi who is the most proficient in the most varieties of combat. Not only lightsaber combat, but also other weapons, and often offensive Force Skills. Whereas Yoda, in his 900 years, would have come to learn many aspects of the Force and swordplay passively, Cin Drallig deliberately studied offense. And, I figured that offense is not just killing people, but killing people efficiently, so he'd have to be a strategist, hence me placing him in charge over the Jedi Military. **

**Anakin Skywalker was a challenge to write in this chapter, in part contributing to why it took so long. On the one hand, I wanted to have him be all cranky, grouchy and "You betrayed me!" kind of whimp we see in RotS, on the other hand, I had not the time to set up his personality, and whereas in the context of the Star Wars Expanded Universe it would have been understandable, as a stand-alone story, (as most AUs should be), it would have been rather jarring. **

**As such, I gave him a bit more logic, which is thematically understandable, because Palpatine hasn't had the time to do the "heavy lifting" when it comes to turning Anakin. But rest assured, we're still gonna see more, Angry, Sith-eyed Anakin. I just won't tell you if it's because Palpatine turned him or because he shut down Anakin's favourite hardware store :-)**

**And lastly, yes, I did just give the Jedi a space version of an An-124 Ruslan for the assault on Mandalore. Partly because I suffered a bit of writer's block, and partly because the sight of Yoda making a parachute jump made me laugh really hard.**

**As always, tahnks for reading, and may the fiction be with you!**

Clean word count: 2,480 | Published: 14/12/14, 0136 GMT


	9. Chapter Eight

**Off Course**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

_"Who ever was the poor fool who thought Jedi were not prone to psychological warfare? Oftentimes, seeing an entire regiment of angry, lightsaber-swinging 'lunatics' scares the fight out of the opponents before our advance units even make contact. Talk softly, they say, and have a regiment of Jedi on standby when negotiations turn aggressive." _  
>—Lord Hoth, <em>Applied Force<em>, circa 1008 BrS

* * *

><p>The scene was rather serene, amidst the star-speckled vastness of space hung the planet Mandalore the sun reflecting off orbiting satellites and the terminator slowly creeping along the surface. Down below, Black Sun vigos and Death Watch lieutenants were slowly waking up to a new day of feasting and subjugation, completely unaware of what was transpiring on the night side of the planet.<p>

With a flash of pseudomotion, the Jedi A-N124 broke out of hyperspace and sped towards the planet. Sensor jamming on full and hull made of sensor-absorbent material, it took the two corsair-class starfighters far too long to see the interloper in their patrol routes. Three seconds later, they were smoking debris falling towards the surface, as Force-guided proton torpedoes impacted against their engine pods.

Aboard the Lander was a scene of organized chaos. Unit starshinas inspected their drop groups, checking parafoils, jetpacks and weapons for battle readiness. The three T-34 anvil-series medium tanks were positioned for deployment, their crews embarking and final briefings being given.

"Keldabe just reached us on the burst comm; enemy forces have been repelled from the Kelita river, which means we will have some support for our advance." Obi-Wan began, pacing about the deck in full battle armour, Jedi crest prominently displayed on shoulder pads and breastplate. "Normally, I would recommend a scythe deployment pattern, however enemy forces are hauled up inside the Sundari walls, which means we can deploy as a column and take a direct approach. First group, we advance on the docks, second group with Colonel Opushkina is going to head west and rendezvous with the Mandalorian 5th and support Daryc Bral, Third group, you're with Master Yoda and will be in reserve in case any of our teams run into difficulties. Good luck."

A chorus of ayes greeted the plan, magazines were slapped into rifles, and everyone stood up, taking their pre-jump stations. "Deployment zone on sensors; ETA five minutes." came Ahsoka's voice from the cockpit. A true student of her master, she was one of the best pilots on the strike team, and – though against minor protest – she was designated as chief pilot, tasked with keeping the A-N124 safe and providing aerial support if needed.

Out the portside portholes, the sky began to lighten; the lander speeding toward the Sundari deserts and catching up with the dawn. The cabin lights dimmed, taking on a red hue as power was diverted to shields and engines. With a hiss if hydraulics, the aft hatch parted, revealing ground whizzing by below. "Drop in thirty!" Ahsoka called out again.

The lander dipped, the lights shifted from red to green, and the buzzer rang out. "Go! Go! Go!" came the call. Engines whirred to life, and the tank platoon rolled off the drop ramp, beginning their ponderous descent. "First element - away! Tanks are away!" They gave them a few seconds more to get some breathing room, then Obi-Wan shouted, "First group, second element, on me!" diving out the hatch, he lead his forces in a perfect execution of an aerial drop.

Five hundred Jedi Knights and Masters of the Shadows and Force Militia descended on Manda'yaim, parachutes unfurling and jetpacks blazing to life, slowing descents and orienting the Jedi for proper landing. Seldom had such a force been gathered, on one battlefield, under one banner; not since the battles of Ruusan and the time of the Jedi Lords.

Had any been around to see it, the landing would have been awe-inspiring. Parachutes were dropped and jetpacks disengaged about six meters from the ground, their passengers opting for instant mobility when they hit the ground. Carried on the Force for the final drop, they hit the ground running, bringing assault rifles up to shoulders and tracking the perimeter, scanning for threats and making certain that if any such threats came into being, they would be perforated by at least two fire teams.

From behind them, the tanks shrugged off their own parachutes, and rumbled along the column to take the lead, turrets also tracking. The landing was a success. "All units are down and accounted for!" the radioman called to the lander disappearing over the horizon.

"Acknowledged. Moving to drop off Second Group." Ponderously, the ship tried to do a wing jiggle, gave up on that notion, turned to starboard, and flew off to help Daryc Bral, the desert hill-fort 600 klicks west of Sundari.

* * *

><p>The noonday sun beat down on the Jedi camp as canteens were passed around, rations eaten, and plans made. The host had met up with elements of the Mandalorian 3rd and Keldabe 7th regiments during the mid-morning, pressing on to the Yustarud Ridge, the doorstep of Sundari. Now, as Obi-Wan, Major Antonov and Alor'ad Kyrbejag made their plans, their forces prepared for the final push.<p>

"According to our intelligence," Obi-Wan began, pulling up the relevant file, "Black sun brought few warships to the party; mostly modified Carter-class freighters to offload their troops. They are currently grounded at the Sundari docks, rendering 70% of their weapons ineffective, as they are designed to repel ventral assaults."

Having spent the past few minutes keying in a tactical simulation, Major Antonov began to speak, even as the scene played out in holographic miniature, "Grounded, the freighters will be without shields; as it stands, the plan is to have our tanks shell the docks from a relatively safe distance, reducing our enemy's aerial capacity and cutting off their most readily-accessible escape route. Once the way is clear, we will advance into the city. Our targets are the south airbase which Death Watch will most likely use to launch their Kom'rk transports, the Spire of Peace which will most likely house the Black Sun escape shuttle, and the Government Palace, which, naturally, will have their leadership, which should be eliminated to prevent them from regrouping. Barracks and ground vehicle depots are, at present, secondary targets."

Kyrdejag nodded thoughtfully, scratching the back of his head, "If it works, the plan will be very effective, however it depends on us being able to destroy the ships at the docks, and to push to the Government Sector before the leaders can evacuate. If the ships have shields deployed, or if Black Sun has mastered urban warfare, our plan will fall apart. Reinforcements will scramble and we will be overrun. "

"True," Antonov acceded, "But Class Cresh deflector shields do not function well in atmosphere, and Class Aurek shields – which do – have a very small effective radius, meaning they would not be placed on freighters. Class Grek shield generators, on the other hand, are larger than the freighters we're looking at. No, we'll be able to eliminate them, and our troops are trained for urban warfare and penetration; our problems will likely come from enemy speeders and any fighters they manage to scramble, as we are not equipped for that."

"Understood," Kyrdejag said, "In this case, I will detail our anti-vehicle squads to each of our assault teams, just in case."

And so it went on, while the overarching strategy was prepared on the flight from Coruscant, many logistical details that arose with the addition of the Mandalorians had to be ironed out in the field.

In the end, all was sorted, orders were passed down to company and platoon leaders, and with creaks and groans, the host took to the march once again, set to arrive just ere sunset.

* * *

><p><strong>Not very christmas-y, I know, but I posted when I could.<br>As such, merry christmas and happy holidays to my readers; I hope that this year has treated you well, and that you have enjoyed this story. I certainly enjoyed racking up more than 35 reviews, and untold numbers of favourites and follows. This story has becoming my most popular one, now having over 2.5k views (1/4 of YJBL, which achived that by virtue of being around for two years).**

**This chapter marks our entry into the Mandalore arc; the Jedi strike force has landed, and is marching on Sundari, ready to retake the planet. Obi-Wan is about to face Darth Mall, and a bit of a plot twist (least ways, I hope so) is coming up that will make half my fans really happy, and the other half will probably think I'm totally crazy. **

**This chapter is shorter than my norm for this story, however, I find that a quality, to-the-point chapter goes a longer way towards an enjoyable read than a bunch of nonsense spread to thin, "Like too little butter that has been spread over too much bread" to quote Bilbo. Next chapter will have a lot of dialogue, and a lot of fight scenes, which should bring us back up to the norm!**

**Some Mando'a translations: (and notes!)**

Mando'a - the Mandalorian language  
>Daryc Bral – Brown Hill<br>Yustarud – Perimeter  
>Sundari – New Mando capital<br>Keldabe – Old Mando capital  
>Kelita – River<br>Kyrbejag – from Kyrbej (battlefield) and jag (man), "Man of the Battlefield."  
>Alor'ad – Captain<p>

**And pertenant notes: **

**The Kelita flows just outside Keldabe, serving as a natural moat. In keeping with their warrior culture, many Mandalorian settlements are more like forts, designed to be easily defensible. Except the New Mandalorian stttlements, who didn't care much for war, and which explains why they got owned so badly by the Death Watch in canon. **

**By all logic, Keldabe should have been the target of the original Darth Maul's assault, because it was the major industrial sector of the planet, and overall capital, but Dave Filoni pulled out his fubarizer 3000 and created Sundari, which holds no geographical or strategic significance, save, perhaps, Satine. (who, actually, we'll get to see soon in the story). So, I decided to go with this logic: Sundari is taken because it is a soft target, and easy to use as a staging ground. Keldabe, Daryc Bral (personal creation for this story) and the other forts are assaulted as secondary targets, from which they are repelled by the more skilled Mandalorian defenders. Theoritically, if the separatists committed their own forces to the campaign, they could have taken Mandalore, but Dooku has a headache from Palpatine, and Palpatine is a nutcase.**

**As for the composition of the opposition in this story, frankly, TCW messed things up. The Pykes; do we REALLY need another crime syndicate? We have Black Sun for that, and Black Sun does not like competition. According to TCW, the Pykes deal in spice. Well, that's actaully Black Sun's domain, and I doubt they would let another bunch of criminals trapse around on their turf.**

**Also, Black Sun was a galaxy-spanning criminal network, hardly a batch of nutjobs sitting on Mustafar. So, for the purposes of sanity and logic, I decided to do away with the entire "Shadow Collective", and create a very simple alliance; Death Watch and Black Sun. DW has the expertise and Darth Mall, BS has the manpower. Together, if used logically, they ought to be a logical, formidable, force.**

**The Jedi response, by some, might be considered a little extreme; there is 500 Jedi with Obi-Wan's group, 500 with Opushkina's and 300 with Yoda in reserve. Weighed against the battle of Geonosis (212 Jedi) this figure seems excessive. However, consider: the Jedi lost rather badly at Geonosis, (179 casualties) mostly because they were overwhelmed, (and because GL wanted a show). Logically, more Jedi - more angles to cover - less casualties. **

**The Jedi Order has never been officially given a size; while some fanfic authors stick to numbers such as 1 or 10 thousand, I find it hard to believe, amidst a galaxy of several hundreds of trillions of inhabitants. Coruscant has one Trillion, (that's 10^12), so 10,000 Jedi on Coruscant make up, 0.000001% of Coruscant's population! Pffft, there are more politicians than Jedi on Coruscant alone. How can so few be considered "Galaxy-wide peacekeepers"?**

**To me, I like to think that the Jedi are very numerous, my preferred figure is 100 million, however for the purposes of this particular story, I'm gonna downgrade that to 5 million at least. Given that the Galaxy at Large has over 400 Quadrillion inhabitents, seems logical, no?**

**On the other hand, Order 66 would be extraordinarily hard to execute if there are 5 million Jedi and 2 million clone troopers (per GL and Karen Traviss).**

**As yet another aside, I think that to maintain a galaxy-wide war, there would need to be at least 500 million clones to account for all the sectors and battlefields. So, I can easily see why LFL stuck with such a small number of Jedi given their blunder. **

**Then again, the Jedi were supposed to be an "Order" not a "nation", so, it might be logical, but that's a discussion better left to a blog, not an author's note.**

**Suffice it to say that the Jedi, in this story, have enough people to have their own standing army, that carries lighsabers, grenade launchers and assault rifles.**

**As to why I wrote a VDV aerial deployment? Simply because no-one else has done it before me! It's all powered suits, super-duper landers, hover-thingamabobs...however, it is my opinion that old tech works just as well, otherwise the pople that made it would not have used it so much.**

**Again, that's better left to another place.**

**Thank you for reading this ramble and the chapter proper, enjoy your holidays, and may the Fiction Be with You!**

Clean word count: 1,298 | Published: 0221 GMT.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Off Course**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

"'_Live in the moment', he said. 'Trust the Force,' he said. 'Your focus determines your reality,' yeah, right. Most of the time, your reality determines your focus, living in the moment leads to dire consequences, and trusting in the Force is a sure-fire way to end up a cosmic joke or in a ridiculously embarrassing situation. As we all know, the Force – like Master Yoda – has one wicked sense of humour. I only wish I knew who had it first, so that I know who to avoid."_  
>—Obi-Wan Kenobi, disgruntled mutter on the banks of the Kelita, Sojourn on Mandalore, circa 3 BrS.<p>

* * *

><p>"Left flank, pull back!" Obi-Wan bellowed into his comlink, trying to be heard over the din of battle and the roar of his blaster rifle. This particular engagement was best fought at range, even if he personally would have preferred to charge in lightsaber blazing.<p>

The march went well, the host had arrived at the walls of Sundari as projected, just before sunset. Sentries blinded by the setting desert sun, the T-34s formed up, calibrated for anti-armour fire, and let loose volley upon volley of concentrated destruction, systematically ploughing through the grounded freighters. Under cover of the barrage, the host had made the final kilometre's push to the docks, and the hole newly blown into the dome.

The battle through the streets was vicious; Black Sun had numbers on their side, but with the Force, the Jedi cut them down with automatic fire and swinging blades. The Death Watch defenders were another story; they operated as teams, not individual combatants, providing cover fire, concentrating on one Jedi at a time, using explosives and other nasties to hamper the advance. Obi-Wan had been forced to call in support from Master Yoda's three companies to hold their exit, and to protect the tanks that were finally getting some attention.

The strength of the Death Watch defence had forced Obi-Wan to allocate much larger units to the other objectives than originally anticipated, which now left him with only two score of Jedi and a dozen Mandalorians to storm the Government Palace, which was actually proving quite the pain.

A pain, but not impossible. "General, the left flank has retreated to minimum safe distance!" his radioman reported from cover.

Good. It was time for an _Anakin-class_ plan. Attaching an underslung grenade launcher to his rifle, Obi-Wan shouted, "Cover fire! On three: one, two, three!"

Four portable mortars, three rocket launchers and a good nine rifles let fly their explosive ordnance, hitting one of the towering buildings about ten meters off the ground and chewing a very large hole into the side. With a creak and a groan, the structure buckled and snapped, and ponderously fell towards the street. Thirty floors of duracreet and transparisteel thundered to the ground, smashing town onto the security checkpoint and flattening its defenders.

A cheer went up from the crowd, and the Jedi got out of cover as their ride came into view. A MandalMotors ZX-50, the speedertruck was a beast of a machine, weighing a fair shade more than the AT-TEs of the GAR, it carried about the same payload with twice as much armour. For a civilian vehicle, it was overkill, but hey, this was Mandalore, right?

Clambering aboard last, Obi-Wan shouted, "Ahsoka, we're good to go!"

No verbal response came, but the engine hum suddenly increased, and with a jerk the construct gathered speed and ploughed on and over the mess of rubble and into the palace grounds.

* * *

><p>Three, two, one. The ornate doors exploded, and a stream of armoured and robed individuals poured into the throne room. Outside the glass windows the darkness of night was rent asunder by explosions and fires, casting the room's occupants in a very eerie light. Death Watch commandos, Black Sun guards, and one royally miffed Zabrak drew their weapons, ready to rip off heads.<p>

Obi-Wan was not averse to that either, brandishing a machine pistol in one hand and his saber in the other. "Can we skip to the aggressive stage of negotiations?" he asked.

The Zabrak looked affronted, "What, you don't even want to know who I am or what I want?"

Obi-Wan would have stroked his beard had his hands not been full, but they were, so he settled for just looking thoughtful. "Does it matter? I mean, you're one of Dooku's – or Sidious' – flunkies, which means you are an acolyte with a really cheesy name, and you have some evil scheme to make my life miserable and take over the universe."

From behind the Zabrak, a few of the Death Watch sniggered in their helmets. Studiously ignoring them, he drew himself up, and declared, "I am Darth Mall, formally Savage Oppressor of Iridonia. And **you** killed **my** brother!"

Obi-Wan was perplexed, "If you mean Maul, I fail to see how that works, I mean you look nothing alike; for Force's sake, you're three heads taller than him!"

Darth Mall just sighed, then released his grip on his lightsaber and smacked his forehead a few times with an open palm. "Okay, who have you been talking to, Mother Talzin?" he groaned. "That witch smokes too much mushrooms, if you ask me." Obi-Wan nodded uncomfortably, which drove Mall to groan again. "Okay, here is the story: Iridonia is home of the Zabrak people. For millennia, we have fought proudly alongside the Republic and the Jedi, then some idiot went ahead with the Ruusan Reformation and disbanded all the armies. Iridonia was left in squalor; our people knew how to fight, how to build machines of war, how to farm and how to sustain ourselves, we did not know how to live in times of peace. It is, actually, why you see so many Zabrak criminals. The Senate pretty much forgot about us, and left us to fend for ourselves. A few centuries in, the planet devolved into a mire of gang warfare."

Seeing that their foe was holding his ground and not going to arbitrarily attack, both Obi-Wan and Mall – by mutual but unspoken consent – disengaged their lightsabers and told their forces to stand down. With equal reluctance, both the Jedi and Death Watch lowered their weapons also; if anything, this would be an interesting conversation.

"There are three major factions on Iridonia," Mall continued, "There are the Centurions, the Savage Oppressors, and the Umbrage Council. The Centurions are inclined to keep well enough alone, they don't attack usually, but doggedly hold their territory; the Savage Oppressors had started as a militia unit, so called by the then-Umbrage government as they negatively impacted their profit margins. Ironically, the Savage Oppressors have lived up to their name, turning to raiding those they had initially protected. Then there is the Umbrage Council themselves; they are the holdouts of the Sith Academy from the Ruusan campaigns, having lost a lot of their teachings, they created new traditions of their own, and go about terrorizing anything that stands in their path. Currently, that's the Oppressors."

"So, where do you fit in?" Obi-Wan asked, not really understanding all the exposition, "And, what interest do you have in Mandalore?"

Mall sighed, now came the hard part. Hopefully, he wouldn't get shot for his troubles. "Honestly, none. Darth Sidious needed a figurehead for the invasion, someone who could keep the riffraff inline and attract the attention of the Jedi. He does not care who this planet belongs to, he just wants the Jedi publicly humiliated. Now that this plan has so obviously failed, I'd like to depart in less than two pieces."

Obi-Wan was dumbfounded. Could this punk really be serious? "You mean to tell me," he began, slowly, "That you're a part of a criminal organization on your home planet that admits to oppressing people, you have invaded a sovereign planet, killed numerous civilians, and now you want to be set loose?

Mall nodded. "Indeed. My quarrel is not with the Jedi or the Republic. All I wanted is the Umbrage Council out of the way. Becoming one of Darth Sidious' acolytes gave me command of separatist forces that have, as of three minutes ago, subjected the Umbrage Council's territories to an orbital bombardment. With the Sith washouts dead, the people of Iridonia will rise up against the remaining gangs and the separatist fleet. The Zabrak race shall be free again, and we can once again contribute to the Galactic community. Who knows, after this war, they might treat us differently."

_A noble villain.._. Obi-Wan snorted, _a naïve, noble villain._ Even the Sith were not immune to stupidity, it seemed. "Mall," he said, fighting hard to keep a tone of condescension from his voice, "What the hell makes you think the Separatists will localize their attack to the Umbrage territory?"

As horror dawned in Darth Mall's eyes, Obi-Wan could not feel anything but pity for the poor fool. He had stepped into a world far too big for him, intent on making it a better place, but doing it for all the wrong reasons and by all the wrong means. True, the Iridonian people would be free once more, but not as Mall had envisioned. Instead, they would suffer greatly at the hands of the Separatist fleet, before the Republic could send aid and reinforcement. The people would be free once more, but not as heroes and victors, but as the victims of a savage attack.

"I must go!" Mall cried, collecting the Force to him and blasting the Jedi and Mandalorians away with a desperate repulse. Dropping his saber in his haste, he pelted towards the nearest exit and ship. He made it ten meters before a pistol barked twice and he fell to the ground, wounds in his head and back smoking.

"Or'dinii…" Pre Vizsla muttered, holstering his WESTAR-42. "Guess you can't fix some stupid."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow, "Does that mean you're going to surrender?"

Vizsla shrugged. "You outnumber us two to one. The Mandalorian people are warriors, not idiots. We have faced greater odds in our past, but that was against conventional enemies. Some of us still remember tales from the Golden Days, how Jedi shock units on Dxun would storm our firebases and emerge victorious over ten times their number of defenders. It is considered dishonourable for a Mandalorian to surrender his forces without battle, and the Death Watch will fight to the last to defend our ideals, but my goal has ever been to forge a stronger Mandalore, not leave it in ruins under the cannons of the Republic fleet and the swords of the Jedi."

Obi-Wan nodded, he had thought as much. "Then, Mand'alor, I challenge you to a duel." he drew his saber and gave his foe the Makashi salute, blade dipping right, then left, then coming vertical to cast a blue glow upon his face, "May the stronger warrior prevail."

The salute was returned; Pre Vizsla motioned his followers back, clearing an area for the duel. As he drew his beskad, his mind flitted back to the days of his youth, when he had challenged the rule of Tor Vizsla, the clan leader and Mand'alor, with this very blade. Tor was a hu'tuunla little shabuir, using the national pride and inborn patriotism of the Mando'ade to further his personal ambitious and as a front for rampant criminality. It had taken Pre many decades to turn the Kyr'tsad from organized criminals to what Jaster Mereel's True Mandalorians actually stood for. A shame, really, that they were wiped out on Galidraan, for they could have made Mandalore a decent place once again. Now, as he squared off against his opponent, Pre Vizsla could not but think, whatever the outcome, Mandalore would be a better place.

* * *

><p>The Clone Wars had driven the Galaxy into chaos; rare was the day when no battles were fought. From the Outer Rim to the borders of the Colonies battles were waged, skirmishes were fought, and conflicts raged. Master Ki Adi Mundi received support from the Jedi 889th and had stormed the enemy positions on Mygeeto, General Grievous' 3rd Battlegroup was overtaken by the 1181st Fighter Wing and utterly obliterated, but none were as pivotal to history as the duel on Mandalore.<p>

In the Halls of Ruling, Jedi and Mandalorian crossed blades; lightsaber against beskad, per the warrior code; no Force and no technology; merely experience against experience; skill against skill. Hither they struck, and thither they dodged, blows raining down upon each other such as had not been seen in the galaxy for over three millennia. Strikes were dealt and parried, ripostes exchanged, stabs turned aside and blunt blows avoided.

In the end, it was a matter of a simple misstep. Trying for a lunge that would have skered Obi-Wan to the wall, Pre Vizsla missed his footing, his beskad dropping just out of position. Forged from Mandalorian Iron, the blade was impervious to a lightsaber, but not to physics. With a clatter it flew out of Pre's hand, skidding across the floor far away. Following on the motion that had knocked the sword loose, Obi-Wan spun around and delivered a crippling blow to the seam where the breastplate met the shoulder guard. The scene was not gory; the saber having cauterized the wound. In his last breaths, Pre Vizsla could not feel anything but pride for his vanquisher and hope for his people. "Gar akaanir pirusti, Jetii. Gar Mand'alor jii." _You fight well, Jedi. You are Mandalore now._

"He most definitely is not!" a voice thundered from the side of the room. There, in the shadows, stood Spar, the lost Alpha trooper, dressed in beskar'gam and looking furious. "This Jedi holds no authority here; he is not even Mando. I am the true Mandalore, and I call all loyal warriors to finish this arutii off!"

Obi-Wan straightened. He had not originally intended for events transpire as they did, but the Force seldom took his wishes into account. He had dearly hoped that Pre Vizsla would either surrender or die in the crossfire, for any duel they engaged in would lead to dire ramifications in light of his past. But circumstances had forced his hand, and the consequences were upon him. Not like them he might, but he would not forsake his duty. Before he could speak though, one of the Death Watch doffed her helmet and stepped forth.

"He has that authority, Spar." Bo-Katan said, "And you **don't**."

The room stilled. Jedi who were raising weapons for the attack halted mid-motion, Death Watch commandos keyed their jetpacks off standby and stood to listen. The air grew heavy with anticipating of what came next.

"He was the only offworlder to care about us during the Civil War," she began, pacing about, "His mandate was to protect the Duchess and get her to safety. He went above and beyond. He abided by our traditions, cared about our civilians, and helped a people who, to him, were complete and utter strangers. He is more mando than you, coward. While he and his brethren come to liberate this world in the name of the people under his command, you slink about with the Separatists, the people who bankrolled this invasion. You, Spar, are Dar'manda!"

Spar was livid. He was the true legacy of Jango Fett, the true Mandalore. He had more free will, more skill, guile and guts then his other _brothers_. **He** was destined to bring the Mandalorians to glory by defeating the Jedi, not kriffing siding with them. "I challenge you to a duel, worm." He bit out, barely managing to restrain himself.

Obi-Wan thought for a minute. Technically, Bo was right; he had no obligation to contend with Spar, the other having forsaken his ways, and being rather delusional. Nevertheless, it could be politically advantageous to take Spar up on his demand, the better to silence any holdouts. "I accept." He said.

Spar grinned behind his mask. Jedi were so predictable. Always doing what was fair and right. When you were a Mandalorian, you did what you had not, not what was right. If traditions stood in your way, you ignored them. Especially with offworlders. "So long, Jedi" he cackled, bending down and sending his anti-vehicle missile flying down range. Soon both the Jedi and the traitorous dar'manda before him would be dead, and he could ascend to Jango Fett's legacy.

Bo-Katan knew that she'd go out serving the Jedi. The clans may have forgotten those ages, but there were times when both the Mando'ade and the Jedi Order coexisted peacefully, providing mutual aid and defence. Some of her people were gutsy, Myria the Great who stood against Cassus Fett on Cathar, and some where snivelling little brats like Mandalore the Lesser. As the missile flew along the hall, she activated her jetpack and barrelled forth to intercept it.

The explosion would be large, but Obi-Wan would survive, and he and her sister could make a better place of Mandalore. But, just before impact, her forward momentum died. The missile stopped ten centimetres before her breastplate, then, against its will it reversed direction, and hurtled back to the person who launched it.

For his part, the only thought that rang through Spar's mind was, "Oh, osik!" as four hundred gams of high explosive incinerated him and the area about in a five meter radius.

"Bo!" Ahsoka growled from her place in the back ranks of the Jedi strike Force, face strained with effort, "Let a roomful of Jedi handle explosive ordnance next time. Okay?"

* * *

><p>"Well, there goes our secret plan: riding a podracer and yelling 'yippee!' at the top of its lungs." Obi-Wan groused. He stood with Opushkina, Yoda, Ahsoka and Bo-Katan upon the Keldabe battements, gazing over the spread of the Kelita and observing the sunrise. The majority of the Black Sun forces across the planet were routed by concentrated military strikes, with only desperate holdouts remaining, which were better defeated with a siege or a lot of explosives rather than manpower.<p>

Sundari was relatively liberated, but the battles had caused severe damage, and it would be quite some time before that city came back to prominence again. Obi-Wan had moved his command post to the planetary capital, and it was dawning upon him what a momentous task it would be to lead the Mandalorian people on a long-term basis, not in a battle or two. Mandalores did not resign.

"Be not so morose," Yoda harrumphed, "A success, Project Exile has been. Half the Order, retreated from the frontlines has. In no danger from the Clone Army, are they. Defended well, our homes in the Unknown Regions and Deep Core are. Fret less, you should. A reason, the Force has for everything."

Obi-Wan was a bit indigent, "What do you mean, 'fret not'? The entire plan hinged on the Jedi Order disappearing from the Galactic scene. First the non-essentials and vulnerable, than Master Windu's Browbeat Brigade. How can the Jedi disappear from the Galactic Scene if one is leading the Mandalorians?"

"Present a solution, the Force will." Yoda stated definitely. "A good plan, the project was, but even the Seers, foresee everything cannot. Adapt we must, adapt we will. Now, up shut, you will, youngling. Enjoying the view, I am, and disturbing me, your worrying is."

Ahsoka sniggered, "Ouch. Maybe you should go, and, _discuss matters of policy_ with Satine, Master Obi-Wan?"

"I dearly hope," Obi-Wan began, "…that you were not implying what I think you're implying. Because, Force help me, I'll dismember Anakin and drop him into a river of lava if you meant what I think you meant."

The group burst into hearty laughter, and the tension flitted away with the darkness of the night. Morning fell upon Mandalore, and morning fell upon a new age of history.

* * *

><p><strong>And there we have it. This chapter is not as detailed as was my first draft, but then again, this chapter is also 3k+ words, which is twice as much as the projected chapter target for this story. (Even though tha average is hovering around 1800 words thanks to the first, second and ninth chapters.)<strong>

**I tried to cover all I could, but even so, I could not include all, so, I'm gonna add a BTS section to this note as well.**

**Before we get on that: translations*:**

Or'dinii - idiot, fool, moron. (Mando'a has a lot of insults!)  
>Beskad - Mandalorian short-sword (as in 45cm [~1' 6''] short).<br>Hu'tuunla - cowardly.  
>Shabuir - bad guy, moron, idiot, English equivelent rhymes with brickhead.<br>Kyr'tsad - Death Watch.  
>Gar akaanir pirusti, Jetii - You fight well, Jedi<br>Gar Mand'alor jii - You (are) Mandalore now.  
>Beskar'gam - Mandalorian armor, made of Mando iron.<br>Aruetii - traitor, outsider, "non-Mandalorian"  
>Dar'manda - no longer a Mandalorian. Someone who was once, but has forsaken the way.<br>Osik - analogous to 'crap'.

_*Note: This list only includes new translations of the Mandalorian language. For words that appeared in the last chapter, check there._

**Pertenant Notes:**

**I don't even know where to start. This chapter is one I have been building up to for a long time. It carries a lot of changes, both to canon, and to the situation in the Galaxy.**

**On the canon front, Pre Vizsla is no longer a cartoonish (pardon the pun) villain. In TCW he just seemed like...what I siad, a cartoonish villain. Given that it was a cartoon, it is somewhat excusible, but this is a story, and I decided to give him a bit of humanity. Dooku was right; the Death Watch of the comics were nothing more than petty criminals hiding behind ideals. IN this story, I tried to give them a reason to be bad guys.**

**Speaking of humanity, I gave the Zabrak people a bit of that, too. Traditionally, Zabrak came from Iridonia, not Dathomir (just like sith come from Korriban, not Moriband). They feature promimently in conflicts the galaxy across, being in a strategically-impaortant place in the Mid Rim. Little is written about Zabraks as a whole after the Ruusan reformation, just the footnote that there was a Sith Academy there for a time. So, I took that idea and ran with it.**

**Here, Savage Opress is plain Mall, and the Savage Oppressors (What was the Clone Wars crew smoking when they came up with that name?) are just a gang I spoofed out of the situation. Now, my BTS Blitz: I couldn't find a place to put it into this chapter, but Darth Mall's brother is not Darth Maul, it is Darth Moll. It started as a bit of a laugh, but I worked in an entire generation of Zabraks with those phonetics into my draft: Maul, Mall, Moll, Moughl, Mowghl, Moel, Mole, and Mawl. It was supposed to be a nightmare Obi-Wan had, but, it got cut.**

**Spar. I am almost ashamed to say I had forgotten about him about half way into writing this chapter, and by the time I remembered, it was too late to pull the plug. His canon story is this: He is from the second batch of clones, called the Alphas (First were the Nulls) he has some sort of aging gimmick, and he gets separated from the GAR. By some FUBARed logic, he has all the memories of Jango Fett, and goes about rebuilding the Mandalorians as some kind of super-bad### unit on the side of the Separatists.**

**For all the good Karen Traviss did with the Mando Culture, she also did a bunch of bad. It is my opinion that she has a lot of anger and belonging issues, as every story she writes about the Mandos, they are invariably oppressed little fairies trying to make a better place for themselves and these HORRID good guys; Jedi, Republic, whatever, are stumping their grwth whatever. Very annoying, very sick of it. So, Spar here is just a very jealous little clone that came out of his tank and never made it to the loony bin. As he should have been in a logical universe.**

**Bo-Katan's declaration about Mandalorians working with Jedi holds canonical ground, for (and I don't care what TOR:Revan has to say about it, as it was only written to fascilitate SWTOR) Canderous Ordo rebuilt the Mandalorians (post KOTOR1) as a force for the Jedi. Also, the Mando culture works with great conflict, and the Jedi ahve been in some pretty great conflicts, no? **

**As for Mandalore-ness...that's a tough topic to brouch. At varying points in history, Mandalores are - were - chosen by the clan leaders, appointed as an heir, or, in later days, simply killed. To kill a Mandalore and take his place, however, you needed to earn the respect of the Mandalorian people. Either do it ala Revan at the battle of Malachor (defeat in single combat, and tell em to disband) or become a Mandaloriaon.**

**Becoming a Mandalorian is easy, adoption - just like marriage - was a matter of three words in Mando'a, and voila! Apart from the Mandalorian honor code, there was the resol'nar, the six actions. Off the top of my head, I can remember: Wear the armor, speak the Language, teach your children to be Mandalorians, defend your family and home, and Follow the lead of Mandalore. (that's five). Not very hard; they wre an open culture.**

**Obi-Wan becoming Mandalore was a little concept that started off in a crackfic that was never fully written, and that I did manage to integrate into this story. Unlike most of my decisions story-wise, it was not made for logic's sake, but because "it was cool". I mean, Mandalore the Aggressive Negotiator, bane of Palpatine's Sanity, has a nice ring to it, yes?**

**Even though the original idea was based on the _cool_-factor, the ramifications of it have been thought out, and I have Mandalore playing a large role in the future. **

**This will be (obviously) my last update for the year, but here's a little preview of what you can expect in 2015 - excerpts from my various drafts:**

"Permission to speak frankly, Emperor?" Commander #### asked.

"Granted..." Palpatine acceeded, cackling.

"You sir, are an idiot!"

. . .

"Today, we fight not just for glory, not just for our planet, but for the Galaxy. Arise, Mandalore!"

. . .

"The shroud of the Dark Side has fallen, Lord Sidious, and ugly, you look without it, yes."

. . .

"You have done well, Ahsoka; no need do doubt yourself." the shimmering figure said.

"Thank you, Sekot. It means so much to me."

. . .

"Red Wing, this is Red Actual. Weapons free! Weapons free! All fighters break by squadron, ready torpedoes and launch at will!"

. . .

"**This**, is for my father. **This** is for Ben. And **this** is for the Galaxy. Good bye, Palpatine, protons are actually dangerous."

**As always, thanks for reading, your reviews, favourites and follows, which make me feel extremely happy and proud. Enjoy your holidays, and May the Fiction Be With You!**

Clean word count: 3,299 (not kidding!) | Published: 0658 GMT


	11. Interlude

**Off Course**

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude<strong>

"_No matter what you think of your enemy, no matter what propaganda you were fed in your education, never, __**ever**__ underestimate him. You can detest his guts, you can call him a blithering fool, but never forget, you are there to kill him, and he you."_  
>—Excerpt from a military lecture circa yonks ago; the Jedi and the Sith are still fighting over credit.<p>

* * *

><p>Though to all appearances he was surveying the endless flows of traffic, Darth Sidious' mind was far removed from the mundane world, roaming about in the distant reaches of the Force, plodding along paths of past and probability, future and certainty.<p>

Visions flitted by just as fast and numerous as the speeders out there in the real world. Visions of woe, suffering, failure and problems. And bankruptcy, it seemed. SithCo shares would be taking a nosedive in three days.

In short, things were not going as he had foreseen.

Upon reflection, it was partially his own bloody fault. Events had transpired superbly up to the Battle of Geonosis, and he got careless. Instead of carefully playing the market and seeing what the future held in store, he had devoted his time to politics. And it showed. He was three steps away from being Galactic Emperor in terms of power, but, it was now a race between the Jedi and financial ruin as to who would foil his schemes. After all, bribes were not cheap, and what good would be mere destruction of the Jedi Order if he could not hold onto his power?

Along with his stocks, the pall of the Dark Side had lessened, and the Jedi managed to sneak an entire conspiracy under his nose. Not only had they foiled – though probably unwittingly – one of his schemes to sever ties between Anakin and the Order, but they also greatly embarrassed and inconvenienced him.

Getting back into good graces with the public was not that hard, his spin artists were, after all, the best in the Galaxy, and credits solved all kinds of problems nowadays, but that was not important. What was important were the political and logistical implications of the Order's rebellion.

Loyalist systems had gotten a second wind, and began to go vocal over several of his policy decisions. Marginal senators were beginning to sway toward the Loyalists, and even some of his own powerbase was in danger of fracturing. Above all that, he could no longer go along with the Clone Wars and his original plan. By his latest estimate, nearly 87% of the Jedi Order had withdrawn from the Galaxy. No matter his ultimate goal, the Jedi were great commanders, and their absence from the battlefield caused the Republic to lose several engagements that ought to have been won. This had prompted him to push the Sector Governance Decree ahead of schedule, which got passed by an uncomfortable majority of two.

Even so, the balance of the war had shifted toward the CIS, and many – Bel Iblis most prominent among those – began to speculate that he was not suitable for command, and unable to deliver victories without the Jedi. Others were even so brazen as to say that he used the Order as a smokescreen for political machinations. It was, all of it, the uttermost truth, but the Galaxy was not to now it.

Things were dire, yes. He was out a lot of favour, a bit of power, a bunch of scheming and down a few plans. But it was not all lost. Dooku still needed to be offed, his next apprentice needed to be turned, the Jedi Order had to be hunted down and a plan needed to be devised to eliminate both the Temple Remment and the Exiled bunch. Kenobi's little insurrection on Mandalore needed to be addressed – Sidious still didn't know how he pulled it off – and there were a not-so-metaphorical thousand-and-one brushfires that needed putting out. Including Alderaan, Corellia, and Caamas…

Caamas!

The Death Star was not yet ready to shoot at planets – well, it could, but the planet in question would be, more likely to giggle "That tickles!" rather than explode. But Caamas, it relied heavily on energy shields and generators. Whereas Alderaan would take a superlaser, Caamas could be destroyed with a fairly small contingent of agents, and some masterfully positioned capital ships for orbital bombardment.

A thorn in his side would be removed, the people of the Republic would rally behind him as he launched an investigation into the destruction of the planet, and the Jedi would be either crippled by the effect on the Force such a momentous loss of life would invoke, or, they would withstand it and come gunning for his head.

Either or, they could be trapped. And eliminated.

Feeling once again invigorated, Darth Sidious darted for his holoterminal, a spring in his step such as had not been present in well over a year. He had calls to make, officers to pay off, and evil deeds to indulge in.

All was not proceeding as he had foreseen, but all was proceeding, once again, on track to total Sith dominance of the Galaxy.

Now if only he could figure out where he left his phonebook….

* * *

><p><strong>And here's a little interlude to bridge the gap between the Mandalore Arc and the Coruscant Arc. I felt that I have neglected Sidious and his evil schemels long enough, and it was high time we saw what he was doing. Plus, it was a good warm-up for me after my start-of-year break!<strong>

**Actually, you could probably thank Dire Straits for me putting this chapter up today, I was actually planning on writing it the week after next, but after listening to a few albums during a long commute put me in a cheery mood, so here it is, short but to the point.**

**There is not much to say about this chapter, I did try to tone down the ridiculous humour we saw in Chapter Three, but a little bit did get through...**

**Caamas and it's destruction come from _The Thrawn Duology_, those being two obscure little books, I'll give a quick rundown of canon events:**

**• Caamasi were a very peace-loving culture, first signatories to the Republic sonstitution and devoute diplomates. They kind-of went the way of Mandalore. During the early gears of the Empire, they were getting too vocal over Palpatine's methods, so he went ahead and ordered the planet's destruction.  
>• Caamas had no military, (what's it with Star <span>Wars<span> and no planetary militaries, anyway?) they were protected by very powerful energy shields. So, circa 17-16 BBY, Palpatine got a bunch of Bothans to do the logical thing: sneak in, blow them up. After which the imp fleet Base Delta Zero'ed it.**

**That's about it.**

**Oh, before I go. My will finally broke down, and I decided to spoof some non-Star Wars things I've come across. Right now I'm taking a wrechking ball to Mass Effect Canon over with _"Reap THIS!"_ (see profile for link). Also on my list are Back to the Future, Independance Day, the Honorverse and possibly Terminator. **

_**Reap**_** THIS is on a "whenever I feel like" posting schedule, and the others are just concepts, so _Off Course_ should be finished without major interruptions.**

**As always, thanks for reading, and your wonderful support, and May the Fiction Be With You!**

Clean word Count: 869 | Published: 13/01/15, 1123 GMT


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